
Class ^EM.^^. 



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NEW ORLEANS 






AS I FOUND IT. 



/J5r-i 



BY H. DIDIMUS. 



*' Dieser sahe die welt wie sie wirklich war." -Sckillkr. 



<^.CAN27j;^> 



IIBKARY ' j 

^Tr-Yo;RV^ 




NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED BY HARPER «fc BROTHERS, 
No. 83 Cliff- Street. 



1845. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, 1>J- 

Harper & Brothers 
Jr the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. 



DEDICATION. 

TO M— R— E. 

My dearest Friend : 

With great pleasure I dedicate to you these sketches of some of the incidents of my 
first visit to New Orleans, in the winter of 1835-36. 

In a " Second Part" I shall add other compartments to an unfinished picture of the 
most remarkable city of our country. But when I again appear before you, you must 
not expect to find in the New Orleans of "to-day" an exact counterpart of "the New 
Orleans of 1836." A few years tell much in its story; and herein consists the diffi- 
culty of my subject. The city's rapid growth in population, in business, and in wealth 
— causes which will continue to operate for centuries to come — the frequent change 
of actors upon its scenes— owing, in part, to the periodical visitation of its great 
scourge, but mostly to the annual influx of new men from northern climes, with nor- 
thern habits and northern thought — render it impossible to draw a portrait which will 
be equally recognised from every point of time. H. D. 

The Hook, N. H., 1835. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



iv 



(!X 



\r'r: 



PAR T vl.^ ivy V ^ T ' ^ 

" Taking the age as it now stands, and with reference to conferapOTaiy maftfers, we haife already said that 
we consider the judgment of the public, which presumes some foundation, in fact, for every current state- 
ment, to be in the majority of cases a just one. Fiction, though siiJl powerful £krvd active, is in a minority — 
on the whole, in a dechning minority. In her old, time-honOared-€a«tles, 8l»«- does indeed preserve unsha- 
ken authority ; but her new conquests, if not diificuit to be made, are at least difficult to be maintained." 
. — Westminster Review. 

DAY THE FIRST. 

" The divisions of a work, whether they be styled parts, or books, or chapters, or sections, or whatsoever 
else the fancy of the writer may devise, are a happy invention — they are breathing points for the mind." 
—Dr. Williams. 



CHAPTER I. 

" We entered into this citie, and observed its make 
and people." — Hackluyt, Voyages 

AilGUMENT. 

The Reader introduced to the Scene of Action. — The 
Levee. — Fiat-Boats.— A Flat-Boatman. — An Ac- 
quaintance made. 

By whatever route the traveller ap- 
proaches New Orleans — vvhether by the 
river, the sea, or the lake — the feature 
which first attracts his attention is its Le- 
vee ; and I could not have chosen a better 
starting-point from which to commence 
my observations upon this " world in min- 
iature" — where one may meet with the 
products and the people of every country 
in any way connected with commerce — 
than its upper or most southern extremity. 

The traveller loses the points of the 
compass at New Orleans, and knowing 
that the general course of the river is from 
north to south, is surprised to learn that 
the city lies west of the Mississippi, which 
here flows due north — that the American 
or upper part of the city, as it is called, is 
really its most southern extremity ; and 
that the frosty Yankee has actually taken 
up his habitation south of the sunny de- 
scendants of France, Spain, and Italy ! 
This exchange of geographical position is 
to be attributed to the northerners superior 
judgment and foresight ; and is here refer- 
red to, that the reader may fully compre- 
hend the locale of the theatre I am about to 
describe, and observe its action without 
being disturbed by the discovery that the 
sun is rising in the west ! 

Levee is a French word, of primary im- 
portance within the State of Louisiana : it 
pervades its statute-book, and is daily 
heard within its halls of justice. " There 
is little or no land," says Judge Porter, 
"on the banks of the river, within this 
state, if we except an inconsiderable 
quwnrity in the neighbourhood of, and 
above Baton Rouge, which would not be 
covered with the waters of the Mississippi 



in the spring months, were it not for the 
artificial embankment which the industry 
of man has raised to exclude them." Thus 
the Dutch are not the only people who 
have won their domain from the watery 
element. The State of Louisiana, whea 
we consider its recent existence, the pau- 
city of its population, and that population 
sparsely scattered over a large extent of 
country, has done more than Holland : yet 
we overlook the wonder which lies at our 
own door, to lose ourselves in admiration 
of the not greater wonder three thousand 
miles off. 

The traveller from the north, as he 
touches the region of the orange and cane, 
of smiling plantations, bounded in the back- 
ground by dense forests, aiid stretching 
onward to a seemingly illimitable extent 
towards the south, and looks down upon 
the planter's mansion, the cluster of white 
cottages hard by,* the slave at his daily 
task, and the mounted overseer, as one 
would look down from a balcony upon the 
busy street below, appears first to be made 
conscious that the Mississippi, the father 
of waters, the receiver of so many mighty 
rivers, is here, near the close of its course, 
where its stream is most rapid, controlled 
by the puny hand of man— that the ocean- 
stream upon whose bosom he is floating, 
here restricted, hemmed in, and directed^ 
sweeps down to the sea over an artificial 
ridge, and that he is passing through a 
huge aqueduct, which raises the dweller 
upon water above the dweller upon land ! 
Here the waves do indeed bound beneath 
him as a steed that knows his rider; yet 
the traveller sees, admires, and forgets. 
But if he forgets the whole, he cannot for- 
get the part : when once seen, once re- 
marked, he cannot forget the Levee of New 
Orleans — the storehouse of the great Val- 



* The northerner, accustomed to extravagant por- 
traitures of the slave's deprivations, is agreeably sur- 
prised to find the servant sheltered by a roof often 
equal with, and sometimes 'superior to, that which 
protects the master. 



6 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ley of the Mississippi ; the receptacle of 
the products of a hundred cHmes, of a 
country extending from the frigid to the 
torrid zone, ilUmitabie in resources,' as al- 
most inimitable in extent ; the goal of a 
thousand steamboats, and of more than a 
thousand merchantmen ; the exchange, the 
place of purchase, of sale, and of barter ; 
the huckster's shop, the news-room, and 
the Prado* of the greatest exporting city 
in the world. f 

* Prado, in its original signification, is an epithet 
little applicable to the dust and total absence of every 
green thing which characterizes the Levee ; but the 
descendants of the daughters of Spain have not in 
any degree degenerated in their love of public walks, 
and if, to enjoy a taste so beneficial, they have been 
compelled to encroach upon the common landing of 
the city, they may be permitted to refer to it in lan- 
guage calculated "to recall the pleasures of Madrid. 

t Perhaps there is no better gauge of what may 
be, than what has been ; the writer has, therefore, 
•collected in the following note a few historical data, 
to justify such hopes of the future as the reader may 
meet wiih in the course of this work. 

In the year 1717, the government of France found 
it advisable to place its province of Louisiana under 
the direction of a company ; and a charter, conferring 
upon its proprietors nearly all the powers of sover- 
eignty, was registered in the parliament of Paris, on 
the 6th of September, 1717. At that time the popu- 
lation of the province, comprising an o.xtent of coun- 
try stretching from Mobile to the head waters of the 
Mississippi, amounted to seven hundred souls ! On 
the 9th of February, 1718, three of the company's 
ships arrived in the province, freighted with soldiers 
and colonists. " lis apperterent," says a late writer, 
" I'agreable nouvelle que Bienville etait nomme gouv- 
erneur ; un homme qui avail passe vingtant dans la 
colonie, et qui connaissait toutes Ics resources et 
toutes les besoins et qui s'etait rendu cher a tons les 
habitans." The first act of that gentleman's admin- 
istration was to select upon the banks of the Missis- 
sippi a site favourable for the capital of the province. 
■" II choisit," continues the writer above quoted, " I'en- 
droit oQ se trouve maintenant la Nouvelle Orleans ; 
et il y laissa cinquante hommes pour nettoyer le ter- 
rain, et y construire des baraques !" 

What will not a century bring forth ! Is there a 
descendant of Bienville among us? If there is, let 
him stand now upon the banks of the Mississippi, 
shut out the present, call up the past, and assume 
the feelings, the knowledge, the character, the iden- 
tity of his ancestor. When the spell breaks, and the 
dream disperses, he will find that ages of action have 
been compressed into one little age of time. Surely, 
what once required ten centuries is now done in one. 
In 1722, New Orleans was officially proclaimed 
the capital of the colonial government, having at that 
time a jiopulation of 200 ! On the 22d of January, 
1732, the Company of Louisiana resigned its charter 
into the hands of the king, with an agsregate popu- 
lation in the whole province of 5000 whiles and 2000 
slaves. On the 3d of November, 1763, the King of 
France ceded to the King of Spain all that part of 
the then Province of Louisiana which lay west of the 
Mississippi, together with the city of New Orleans. 
in September, 1706, Ulloa arrived at New Orleans, 
with authority to take possession of the ceded terri- 
tory in the name of the King of Spain ; the province 
then numbered 5000 whiles and 6000 blacks. On the 
16th of August, 1769, the Spanish general, O'Reily, 
exhibited his credentials, and formally took posses- 
sion of the province, Ulloa having refrained from so 
doing, from motives of policy : the city then possess- 
ed a population of 3190; of whom 1902 were free, in- 
cluding 31 of pure and 68 of mixed African blood ; 
1225 slaves, and 60 Indians. The houses were in 



The Levf e of New Orleans is one con- 
tinued landi ig-place or quay, four miles in 
extent, and "f an average breadth of one 
hundred feet. It is fifteen feet above low- 
water mark, or that stage of the river when 
its waters retire wholly within their natu- 
ral bed ; and six feet above the level of the 
city, to which it is graduated by an easy 
descent. Like the river it margins, it 
holds a serpentine course ; advancing or 
receding, as the Mississippi encroaches 
upon the city, or falls off towards the op- 
posite bank. It is constructed of deposUe, 
a rich alluvion swept from the north, and 
held in suspension by the waters of the 
Mississippi until their rapidity is checked 
by a sudden change of direction, or, swoll- 
en to overflowing, they spread over the ad- 
jacent swamps, again to retire, and again 
to bless the land they have visited with an 
increase of soil. The deposite is so great, 
and the consequent formation of new land 
so rapid, immediately in front of that por- 
tion of the quay which is most used for the 
purposes of commerce, that it has within 
a few years become necessary to build 
piled wharves, jutting out from fifty to one 
hundred feet into the river. The new for- 
mation, which is governed, as to its local- 
ity, by what may well be termed the freaks 
of the Mississippi, is called " Batture ;"* 
and when it has progressed to such an ex- 
tent as to be left bare by the retiring water 
at its lowest stage, is held capable of own- 
ership : a sort of property which has giv- 
en birth to an indefinite amount of long- 
continued, intricate, and vexatious litiga- 
tion, dating from the first appearance of the 
late Edward Livingston in the courts of 
Louisiana up to the present moment. 

I have now introduced the reader to that 
part of the city vvliich will first occupy our 
attention. The city of Lafayette is busy 
behind me — a mere suburb of rusty, wood- 



number 468. In 1785, the population of New Or- 
leans had increased only 1770 — 4960 ; and in 1793, 
only 2148—5338, in a period of nineteen years. 

On the 21st of March, 1801, Louisiana was ceded 
to France, in conformity with the stipulations of a 
treaty concluded between his Catholic majesty and 
the First Consul of the French Republic, at St. Ilde- 
fonso, the 1st of October, 1800. On the 30th of No- 
vember, 1803, Lausat took possession of the province 
in the name of the Republic. The population of the 
city then amounted to 8056. On the 20th of Decem- 
ber following, the province again changed masters, 
and passed into the possession of that power which, 
with a liberality unknown to history, has raised the 
purchased to an equality with the purchaser — has 
stripped the servant of the badges of servitude, and 
clothed his limhs with sovereignty. In 1810, the 
population of New Orleans had increased to 17.242; 
in 1820, to 27,176; and, in 1830, to 46,310: but it is 
to be remembered that these numbers give only its 
fixed population, or that which is to be found in the 
city in midsummer. During the busine.ss season it 
wiil not now (1839) fall far under 150,000. Such are 
the effects of Liberty! 

* A Creole corruption of battures, a French "'""^ 
having no singular, and signifying flats, sh; 
shoals.— Vide 6. M. Reps., p. 21. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



• en houses; on my left I hear a confused 
Babylonish dialect, sounds harsher than 
harshness, the patois, provincialisms, and 
lingual corruptions of all the Germanic 
tribes — it is the German quarter; and on 
my right flows the Mississippi, a stream of 
jnud, whose very filth constitutes its puri- 
ty. And here one may see what New Or- 
leans was before the application of steam 
to navigation. Hundreds of long, narrow, 
black, dirty-looking, crocodile-like rafts 
lie sluggishly, without moorings, upon the 
8oft batture, and pour out their contents 
upon the quay : a heterogeneous compound 
of the products of the Upper Mississippi 
and its tributaries. These rafts, or flat- 
boats, as they are technically called,* are 
covered with a raised work of scantling, 
giving them the appearance of long, nar- 
row cabins, built for the purpose of habi- 
tation, but designed to protect from the 
■weather- a cargo often of the value of from 
three to fifteen thousand dollars. They 
are guided by an oar at the stern, aided 
with an occasional dip of two huge pieces 
of timber, which move on either side like 
fins, and float with the stream at a rate of 
three miles the hour. Such was the car- 
riage of the products of the up-country 
twenty years ago ! their number has not 
been diminished by the introduction of the 
steamboat. It is, indeed, a natural,^imple, 
and cheap mode of transportation ; and as 
long as the Mississippi passes with such 
rapidity from its source to its embouchure 
in the gulf, the traveller will meet with 
these unsightly masses floating on its bo- 
som, swayed to and fro by its currents, 
counter-currents, and eddies, often shift- 
ing end for end, like some species of shell- 
fish, and not unfrequently, like the crab, 
preferring the oblique to the forward move- 
ment. Yet hundreds are at times sunk by 
sudden squalls, and of the many freighted 
in the up-country, perhaps not more than 
two thirds ever reach New Orleans. The 
insurance offices look upon them as very 
unsafe bottoms. 

Of the many which lie before me, ground- 
ed upon the batture, some are filled with fat 
cattle, whose lowing discourses eloquently 
of the distant pastures of the north. The 
States of Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Mis- 
souri, Arkansas, and Louisiana, and the Re- 
public of Texas, annually send more than 
twenty thousand head of horned cattle to 
this market. Arkansas, Missouri, and Tex- 
as raise numerous herds, which run wild 
over their extensive prairies, and are tamed 
and caught with salt. Kentucky, with 



♦ The flat-boat may claim the honour of antiquity. 
" Man nahen zwei unif dreissig Playten (Platte 
Fahrzeuge), jede sechs und sechzig Fusz lang und 
zwanzig breit, und diese fiigte man." — U. s. v. Schill- 
er, Belagerung von Antwerpen. This description is 
literally applicable to the flat-boats of the Missis- 
sippi. 



greater progress in the arts of husbandry, 
pastures and stalls its beef, which, conse- 
quently, bears off" the palm for size, condi- 
tion, and general excellence. Henry Clay 
is an accomplished farmer ; not the least 
of his merits : and the eflfects of his labours 
at " Ashland" may be seen in the short 
horns, broad chests, full, round proportions, 
and sleek, glossy hides of the monsters 
which are now passing from the water to 
dry land, snuffing the air, conscious of for- 
eign parts, yet treading the earth firmly, 
and with measured step, without any of 
the frolic meaner breeding would have ex- 
hibited. 

Others are freighted with horses, mules, 
and sheep ; corn in sacks or in bulk, and 
upon the cob — a method of transportation 
which has its advantages, what is lost in 
stowage being gained in protection from 
must and rot. 

Here is a boat stowed with apples, infe- 
rior enough in quality, cider, cheese, pota- 
toes, butter, chickens, lard, hay — coarse, 
the rank growth of a virgin soil — all offered 
for sale, in the mass or by the lot ; a variety 
storehouse which would make a Yankee's 
heart leap for joy. And there lie thirty 
more, side and side, reeking with grease, 
steaming in the sun, and smelling — faugh ! 
none but a Christian could live amid such 
a mass of swine's flesh. Pork, alive, in 
bulk, in barrels, fresh, salted, smoked, of 
all sizes and conditions ; the corn-fed fat- 
ness of Ohio, and the lean acorn-growth 
of Illinois : were Judaism to prevail, where 
would be the greatness of Cincinnati ? 
Flour from Virginia and Ohio, old and new, 
sweet and sour ; the leading breadstuff", yet 
the most fickle in price : cotton from Ar- 
kansas and Mississippi, lumber from Ten- 
nessee, whiskey from Missouri, tobacco 
from Kentucky, twice foundered, twice 
drenched, to be here dried, cured anew, 
disguised, and repacked, close the list. 

But the men who make these things of 
wood their dwellings ; who launch them 
upon the Ohio, the Illinois, the Upper Mis- 
sissippi, the Missouri, the Arkansas, and 
the Cumberland, with all their tributaries, 
and guide them to this their final resting- 
place, should not be forgotten. They are 
a distinct class of beings, livers on the wa- 
ter, known and designated as '• boatmen of 
the Mississippi," an expression which em- 
braces all that is strong, hardy, rough, and 
uncouth, with much that is savage, wild, 
and lawless. They cannot be supposed to 
have been born in habitations constructed 
for so temporary a purpose ; yet the con- 
geniality of their dispositions with their 
situation and employment might justify 
one in suspecting that their mothers, like 
Antonia Perez, often visited the scenes of 
their husband's labours. " Mi nacimienlo," 
says Lazanllo, " fue dentro del rio Termes, 
par la qual cosa tome el solsenombre" (de 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Tecmes), " y fue de esta manera. Mi pad- 
re (que dios perdone), tenia cargo de pro- 
veer una molienda de una acefia que esta 
ribera de aquel rio, en la qual fue molinero 
mas de quiaer afios : y estando mi madre 
una noclie en la acefia prefiada de mi, to- 
m61a el parto y pariome alii, de manera 
que con verdad me puedo decir nacido en 
el rio." Undoubtedly, like Jacob the Faith- 
ful, many of them in that way first smelled 
the mud. 

There is now before me a model of his 
kind, et tabula uni, discriptio omnium. He 
stands six feet, broad shouldered, broad 
breasted, large boned, fatless, but well 
strung and knit with muscle. He stoops 
in the back, his head projects a foot be- 
yond his breast, his hair is long, shaggy, 
and falls dishevelled about his ears; his 
feet are broad enough to serve as a base 
to the hanging tower above, and his hands 
are of the compass of a goodly-sized di- 
ning plate. His chin is unreaped, his mouth 
capacious ; his nose massive, projecting, 
and of a warm, whiskey hue ; his eyes are 
swollen, red, and watery, the effects of ex- 
posure ; his eyelashes gone, and eyebrows 
long, thin, and scraggy; his costume, a 
large felt hat, worn u la slouche, with an im- 
mense brim, from which the rains of heav- 
en have long since extracted the glue ; it 
looks for all the world like an old lady's 
cap-ruffle of a Saturday morning, unstarch- 
ed ; a round linsey-woolsey jacket, with 
sleeves which halt half way between the 
elbow and the wrist, and trousers to match, 
of stout Kentucky jeans : the nether, like 
the upper garment, exhibiting a strong dis- 
inclination towards extension. There he 
stands, faithfully drawn, a flat-boatman of 
the Mississippi. There are exceptions, 
sed exceptio probat regulam. 

" Good-morning, sir," said I, approach- 
ing the figure, and touching my hat re- 
spectfully. 

" Good-morning, good-morning," replied 
the boatman ; and dc.;:;hingthe rheum from 
his eyes with one hand, he mechanically 
extended the other, not in token of friend- 
ship or recognition ; but every seller upon 
the Levee sees a purchaser in a stranger, 
and baits his hook with the little courte- 
sies of life when he would fish for a cus- 
tomer. I met the proffered member half 
way ; it felt like a piece of well-tanned 
leather, hard, solid ; there was no give to 
it ; it had seen service ; yet the grasp was 
as gentle as a woman's ; for it was one of 
formal habit. 

" A very cool morning, sir." 

'■' D — d cool," replied the boatman, en- 
ergetically, while he rubbed his two fins, 
one over the other, with a rapidity which 
.must' have excoriated common flesh. 

" What may be the price of corn i" said 
I, innocently. 

" The price of corn ]" The boatman's 



eye twinkled. " Closed at seven bits* 
yesterday ; will be eight to-day ; shouldn't 
be surprised if it ran up to twelve before it 
stops; mildew — rot — cold summer — wet 
fall— played the devil with it— told that 
ten boat-loads were sunk in the late squall, 
near island No. 23. I have a right smart 
sprinkle of the article in a small chunk of 
a boat hard by." 

" My dear sir — " 

" Half in sacks, and — " 

" I am no purchaser — " 

'' Half on the cob—" 

" I merely inquired — ''' 

" Five thousand bushels in the heap — " 

" Out of curiosity." 

" Growed on the best rib in old Ken- 
tuck—" 

" I am very sorry — " 

" Right from Little Bear Creek—" 

" I have—" 

" Sound and sweet — ' 

" Put you—" 

" Never seed better — " 

" To the—" 

" Must go up river to-morrow — ' 

" Trouble—" 

" Will sell cheap—" 

" Of—" 

" Have chance for a speculation — " 

" Enumerating — " 

" Do you wish to buy"?" 

I had, unintentionally, touched the right 
spring. The machine was wound up, and 
it would go on until it ran down. 

"Do you wish to buyl" and the boat- 
man drew a long breath. 

The question was to be answered : and, 
as soon as my admiration of the man's vol- 
ubility had somewhat abated, I renewed 
my asseverations of entire disinterested- 
ness in the condition of the market ; sta- 
ting, in a deprecating tone, that I was a 
mere idler upon the Levee, a stranger to 
these parts, one whose sole object was to 
hear what was to be heard, and to see 
what was to be seen. My friend looked 
at me narrowly, but soon resolved his 
doubts. 

" Come !" said he, pointing to one of the 
many flat-boats which lay aground near 
us ; "I have lived thirty years on this riv- 
er, and this is my last trip. I am old, and 
a twinge of the rheumatics is what I call 
a broad hint. Perhaps you are about to 
enter upon that scene which I find it time 
to leave — we must drink together." 

The old boatman's words went to my 
heart. " I have lived thirty years on this 
river, and this is my last trip !" I bowed 
more than respectfully, and, putting his 
arm within mine, walked towards his hab- 
itation. 

"This is my home!" said the boatman, 



* Bit — a local term for the Spanish coir: 
and a half cents value. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



9 



as we stepped into the queer craft over 
which he held command. It was a long, 
narrow trough, fifty feet from stem to stern, 
with a beam of twelve ; the floor and sides 
were made of thick plank, double, and 
cross-laid, and well calked and tarred in 
the seams ; the whole covered with the 
light raised work of scantling of which I 
have already spoken ; a man of ordinary 
height might have stood erect beneath its 
roof. The boat was filled with corn fore 
and aft, excepting a small cabin on the 
prow, which the captain had reserved for 
his own accommodation. 

" Put two cups on the table, and a 
flask of the real, Nanny," said the boat- 
man, addressing a little old woman of some 
fifty years ; she might have been younger 
— she probably was — it is wonderful how 
exposure takes from the youth of a woman. 
The little old woman rose from the only 
chair in the apartment, and commenced 
fumbling amid a heap of rubbish which lay 
at her elbow, while the boatman, having 
placed two rough stools before a table in 
the centre, seated himself upon one, and 
motioned me to the other. 

" A snug apartment this !" said I, sur- 
veying, with no small curiosity, its narrow 
walls, garnished with many a string of 
traced onions, bunches of beets, red pep- 
pers, and other culinary plants. 

" Very ; but large enough for my wants. 
Young man, I am used to it. I have lived 
in this 'ere sort of thing the better part of 
thirty years, and have seen more happy 
days in than out of it. Habit, nothin' like 
it. From the day of my first trip, 1808, 
never sailed in any other craft : wouldn't 
do it." 

" You might tell many strange things of 
old times." 

" Rather reckon I could. Saw the first 
steamboat that descended the Mississippi : 
it was of a fine frosty morning in the early 
part of the month of January, 1812.* Lord! 
how queer she looked. The wild water- 
fowl, that used to consider me a kind of 
one of themselves, were terrible frighten- 
ed. I then thought there was an end o' 
my trade, but steam hasn't affected me. 
Yet it has killed the keelboats ; and I thank 
Heaven for it. I always thought it a dis- 
grace to human nature to, walk through 
the world backward,! and have preferred 



* The first steamboat upon the Mississippi arrived 
at New Orleans from Pittsburg on the 19th of Janu- 
ary. 1812. 

+ The keelboat, in ascending a stream, is pro- 
pelled by means of poles of from twenty to thirty 
feet in length. The boatmen, ranging themselves in 
equal numbers on either side of their craft, thrust 
one end of their slicks into the mud, and, placing the 
other against the right shoulder, apply forpe suffi- 
cient to move the heavy mass u['jii which they 
Btand. Thus each passes successively from stem to 

■-: -i---» "i-'-iging his position, and with his 

3 point towards which he is mo- 



floating down in a thing like this. Sell 
out ; bre?ik her up for the wood-yard ; take 
my money, and walk over the ' Old Natch- 
ez Trace.' " 

" Have you, indeed, been a traveller 
upon the ' Old Natchez Trace V It is a 
famous track, and has many a wild legend 
connected with its history." 

" A traveller !" exclaimed the boatman, 
with a leer out of the corner of his eye ; 
"one hundred times, if once. And as for 
legens, I think I can give ye an anecdote 
which will please ye, and which I know to 
be true." 

I thanked my host, and expressed a great 
desire to hear his story. 

" We must drink first," said he, as the 
little old woman placed two small tin dip- 
pers and a flask upon the table. " My 
name is Ebenezer Longfellow ; what 
mought be yours !" 

" Henry Didimus, at your service," said 
I, somewhat surprised at the boatman's 
abrupt move towards a better acquaintance. 

" So so," replied the old captain, nod- 
ding, and raising one of the dippers to his 
lips, while he pushed the other towards 
me ; " your health, Mr. Did'mus." 

" Yours, Captain Longfellow." 

" Have you ever drank better*?" 

" Never." 

" Then you shall have the story." 

The reader will find it in the next chap- 
ter. I have remodelled the boatman's 
phraseology ; his incidents and descriptioa 
remain unchanged. 



CHAPTER II. 

A TALE OF THE OLD NATCHEZ TRACE. 

" I have not ty'd myself to a literal translation ; 
but have often omitted what I judg'd unnecessary , or 
not of dignity enough to appear in the company of 
better thoughts." — Dryden. 

" If a history, so circumstantiated as that is, shall 
be resolved into fable or parable, no history whatever 
can stand secure." — Waterland. 

ARGUMENT. 
The Party enumerated. — Mode of travelling. — Mi- 
chael la Flore. — The Forest. — The Deer. — Jowler. 
—Gruff.— Tenor.— The Frenciiman's Wife.— The 
Potation. — Camping for the Night. — The Robber. 
— The Contest. — The Eclaircissement. 

"It was a cold, overcast, drizzly morn- 
ing of the month of March, 1816, when I, 
with six companions, took friendly leave 
of the ' Boatman's Retreat,' a very good 
house of entertainment then standing under 



ving. Schiller alludes to the same peculiar method 
of navigation : " Er veschaffto den Schiffen aus 
Gent, nicht nur einen sichern, sondem auch einen 
Melhlick kiirzern VVeg zu den Spanischen Qtiar- 
tieren, well sic nun nicht mehr nothig halten, den 
weitliinsigen Krummniigen der Schelde zu folgen, 
sondern bei Gent unniittelbar in die Moor tralen, 
und von da aus hn Stfckcn durch den Kanal und 
durch das iiber schwemmte Land bis nach Kalloo 
gelangten." — Schiller, Balagerung von Antwerpen. 



10 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



the ' hiir at Natchez.* There were six of 
«s : the two Pinis — twins, sir — looked so 
much alike, couldn't distinguish one from 
the other; only Ben was just about the 
ugliest man I ever saw. Such a nose ! 
I have seen it a mile off, and measured the 
distance, on a wager. There were six of 
us, with Ben's daughter, as stout, good- 
looking a lass as you would wish to see 
of a summer's day, bating her size, which 
■was rather under for one of her years." 

" La, Eben !" exclaimed the little old 
woman. 

The boatman did not notice the inter- 
ruption. 

" There were the two Pims weis one, 
myself was two, John Jones was three, 
Eben's daughter was four, and Jeems 
i(James) Wilson was five." 

The boatman put his hand to his fore- 
head. 

" Certainly there were six of us," said 
he, renewing the enumeration upon his fin- 
gers. " Myself was one, Eben's daughter 
was two, John Jones was three, the two 
■Pims was four, and Jeems — well, well, 
there is a slip of the memory somewhere : 
let that pass. We had a long journey be- 
fore us, four hundred and eighty-seven 
miles from Natchez to Nashville, accord- 
ing to my reckoning ; but we were well 
mounted on strong horses, and well armed. 
We had five thousand dollars in the com- 
pany, all in hard silver. The old ' Bank 
t)f the United States' then had a ' Branch' 
at Orleans ; but there were so many coun- 
terfeits on its ' bills,' we would not trust 
them. The five thousand we divided into 
five parcels, enclosed each in a stout can- 
vass bag, and, rolling them in our blankets, 
made the whole fast to the pummels of our 
■saddles. When travelling, sir, always fast- 
en your valise to the pummel of your sad- 
dle ; the horse bears ir, better ; his loins are 
aio place for an extra weiglil. We jogged 
?ilong, at an even pace of thirty-five and 
forty miles a day, halting at the regular 
stands, and meeting with no incident of 
importance, other than straining our rifles 
■over a hollow of some six hundred yards 
after a stray deer, which would at times 
cross our path, or swimming a creek. 
When you have occasion to swim a creek, 
sir, draw but lightly on the reins — he will 
keep his own nose out of the water — and 
give hini his way. You will be the safer 
for it. We passed Fort Gibson, Grindstone 
Forge, Choctaw Line, Choctaw Good- 
spring, Osborn's, Dinsmoie's, Breschin's, 
Ward's, Doak's Stand, and Choat's.f and 
on the evening of the fourth day drew up 
at Little French Camp, before the door of 

* The boatmen of 181C travelled the coast -road to 
Natchez, or, crossing Lake Ponchartrain, started 
from the small town of Madison. 

+ The names of the " stands" at that time upon the 
■« track" 



Michael la Flore, a crooked-backed French- 
man, who had moved in among the Choc- 
taws, taken a squaw to his bed, and settled 
down upon the track ; perhaps with the 
hope of finding happiness among savage.s, 
or, more probably, with the intention of 
amassing a competence by selling the ne- 
cessaries of life to travellers. The man 
had some half dozen negro boys, runaways 
from the low-country, caught and brought in 
by the Indians, who hustled about us as we 
dropped our bridles on our horses' necks and 
dismounted, eased our beasts of their sad- 
dles, and made each fast to a black-jack, 
with a box nailed against its trunk to hold 
corn. It was a beautiful site the French- 
man had built upon. His house, a double 
log cabin, stood upon a natural mound, 
which fell ofl^'on every side to an even plain 
of ten thousand acres. And the woods 
about it, cleared of all underbrush (an In- 
dian fire keeps that down), resembled long 
vistas of finely-tapered pillars, with capi- 
tals of living green, the wild vines twining 
about their bodies, and hanging from top to 
top, like festoons upon a triumphal arch ; 
the ground beneath carpeted with flowered 
velvet. There is nothing, sir, in the art 
of the cities which can vie with the handi- 
work of Nature in her deep woods ! Her 
colouring is the rainbow, and the tracery 
of her fingers lighter than the single web 
that crosses your path at noonday, floating 
and glittering in the sun. And then, if you 
wander into her more inaccessible recesses 
— where the seal of time is strong and vivid 
upon everything about you ; where trees 
of a century'.=^ growth lie prostrate, their 
trunks in every stage of decay, heaped one 
upon the other ; where whole forests have 
crumbled into dust — you stand in the very 
temple of God ! 

" Pardon me, sir," continued the boat- 
man, brushing aside the moisture which 
glistened in his eye, " but when I refer to 
my past travels in the woods, the same 
sort of feeling will come over me as then 
often unmanned me, as I trudged along in 
solitude through some deep glen or dell, 
thinking of Him who made these things. 

" The Frenchman," said the captain, re- 
suming his story, " was salting his cattle,* 
of which he owned some hundreds, as we 
came up." 

" ' How do, Cap'n Longfellow' — I was an 
old customer — ' how all do T Vat news 
from Orleans 1 Valk into de cabine — Jean- 
net, supper for six. You tam plack rascal, 
vy you no pigger fire in de chimney 1 'tis 
Mars» not July — vill you take a little vis- 
key V 

" The Frenchman's hcspitality was open, 
if interested ; and we did not scruple to tax 
it, knowing that a few hard dollars would, 
in the morning, cancel the obligation. 

* The expression will be understood by a farmer. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



11 



That man, sir, was a true model of a land- 
lord ; and if he had not buried his genius 
in a forest, he might have attained emi- 
nence in a city.* A large fire was soon 
blazing upon the hearth. The evening was 
cold, and we had come in well bundled up 
in big coats and comforters ; but our outer 
garments soon gave way to the genial in- 
fluence of the heat, and all, excepting my- 
self, sat lolling lazily over the backs of 
their chairs, waiting the appearance of sup- 
per. I had fallen into a brown study, and 
stood, half conscious, watcliing the moon, 
which had just risen, and was struggling 
Tip through the forest, flinging a beam, now 
and then, where the foliage was thinnest, 
into the unglazed window before me. Her 
orb was full that night, and one might see 
a goodly distance into the wood. How 
still it is, said I, involuntarily ; the wind 
does not breathe, and nothing is to be heard 
but the low moan of the air, which, like 
the sea, is never hushed. As I spoke, a 
deer sprang from his lair, and, with nose 
erect, and its branching horns thrown back 
so as to rest upon its shoulders, came lo- 
ping in an even line directly towards me. 
At another time I should have resorted to 
my rifle ; but it had closed in towards the 
settlement at night to avoid the wolves, 
and I would not betray its confidence. It 
is strange, said I, observing that the ani- 
mal turned neither to the right hand nor 
tlie left, but kept straight forward, as if de- 
termined to make my acquaintance. The 
report of a rifle struck sharp upon my 
ear, the deer leaped into the air, and fell 
dead beneath the window. My compan- 
ions started from their seats. He is dead, 
said I." 

" ' Who V inquired they, pressing around 
me. 

" ' The deer.' 

" ' Pshaw !' exclaimed a gruff voice from 
■without, ' you have won the bet.' 

'' ' How !' replied a second, in tenor ; 
* didn't hit him in the head, eh V 

"'No!' said the one in gruff; 'wish I 
had staked on the heart — tliat's my game !' 

" ' Hush !' said tenor ; ' we are just under 
the window !' 

"'That shot will secure us a night's 
lodging, I take it !' said gruff. ' Here, 
Jowler! here, Jowler! .lovvlerl Jowler!' 
and the voice died suddenly away, as if 
the speaker had turned a corner of the 
building. The next moment two men en- 



* A descendant, perhaps a son, of the Frenchman 

now lives upon the same spot. He was captain over 

one portion of the Choctaw tribe of Indians prior to 

their removal beyond the Mississippi ; but has since 

become a planter of cotton, holds large possessions, 

and was, a few years since, selected to represent the 

county of Carroll, in which he resides, in the Legisla- 

*■ '! tate. He is of mixed Indian and white 

' 1 illustration of the fact that the race is 

:apable of civilization. 



tered the room, followed by a large blood- 
hound. 

" ' Good-evening, gentlemen !' said he 
of the gruff voice ; ' it is cold, and your 
fire looks cheery !' Then, doffing a close 
otter cap, he turned back from his fore- 
head a mass of long, coarse black hair, 
which fell, in heavy ringlets, almost to his 
shoulders. Tenor nodded distantly to our 
company, and, with much seeming bash- 
fulness, imitated the example of his com- 
panion, who had thrown himself into a va- 
cant seat before the fire ; and for a few 
minutes both were intently engaged in 
ameliorating the temperature of their fin- 
gers. 

" Grutf was much above the ordinary 
size, compactly built, with no superfluity 
of flesh about him, but of muscle that might 
have strung a tiger. His features were 
massive, heavy, hard — harder than the 
nether millstone — and they spoke his soul. 
Tenor was a mere boy ; he had a girl's 
face, and his hand was more like a wom- 
an's than a man's; and his form, too, not- 
withstanding the concealment of a rough 
dress, was strangely light and airy. A 
maid, just budding into womanhood, might 
have thought him handsome ; but I do not 
like to see in our sex the lineaments of the 
other. Both the strangers were plainly, 
rather coarsely dressed, in apparel fitted 
to the season and the journey, and were 
apparently unarmed, excepting a long rifle, 
which the larger of the two seemed chary 
of parting with, as he still held it reclining 
within the hollow of his arm. 

" ' Here, Jowler !' said Tenor. The dog 
crouched beneath the boy's feet. 

" ' You killed a deer just under the win- 
dow V said I, addressing Gruff. 

" ' Aha ! you saw that, did you ? A pret- 
ty shot — two hundred yards by moonlight ! 
The dog had got upon his track, and start- 
ed him. He is a still creature, sir! makes 
no noise — says nothing — does not open — 
goes straight forward to his object. I al- 
ways know when he has struck a scent, 
sir; he stops, turns round, and looks up 
into my face, as much as to say, " I have 
found it !" ' 

" ' A valuable dog that,' said I ; ' have 
you any more of the breed "?' 

"The stranger smiled. 

" ' Well, well, jesting aside, you may 
teach a dog anything! Here, Jowler!' 

" The dog sprang to his feet, and eyed 
his master. 

" ' Take this rifle, and set it up in yonder 
corner !' 

" The dog grasped the rifle firmly by the 
breech, held it erect, and walking sedately 
across the room, set it up against the w-all 
in the corner designated. 

"'It is wet!' said the stranger, holdmg 
out liis cap ; ' hang this over its muzzle I' 

" The dog took the cap, and, crossing to 



12 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



the corner, dropped it upon the floor. Then 
grasping the rifle as before, he brought it 
down gently, fixed the cap as directed, and 
replaced the weapon in its former position. 

" ' I want that cap and rifle,' said the 
stranger. 

" The dog returned them to his master. 

" ' And now, gentlemen,' said the stran- 
ger, ' please to examine this breech ; the dog 
knows that I am rather nice about the tool, 
and would not be well pleased to see it 
scarred.' 

" There was not the mark of a tooth 
upon it ! 

" ' Will you now believe the dog knows 
when to hold his peace V continued the 
stranger, looking into my face with a leer. 

" ' A rare animal that,' said I ; ' shall I 
put you down twenty-five hard dollars for 
himr 

" 'Not a thousand." 

" The door opened, and three black girls 
brought in, sat out, and arranged the sup- 
per-table — lighted by two boys bearing 
huge torches of pitch-pine — a sort of can- 
dle much used to this day. All was in 
readiness, and waited only the coming of 
the landlady. She soon made her appear- 
ance ; a beautiful Indian of twenty years ; 
tall, slim, regular features, a fine forehead, 
piercing eye, high cheek bones, a mouth 
like a bow, softly-moulded chin, and her 
long, straight, black hair flowing upon her 
shoulders and down her back like Eve's in 
the picture. She moved along the floor, 
her eyes drooping, like a fawn half tamed, 
and, though inclined to trust, you looked 
every moment to see her start aside and fly 
off", from whim or fright. 

"'And how is my lady since we last 
met V cried the stranger in gruff, rising 
from his chair and mechanically moving it 
towards the supper-table,' while he fixed 
his eye keenly upon the Frenchman's wife. 

" An involuntary movement passed 
through her frame as the voice struck her 
ear ; and when she raised her eyes and 
looked upon the speaker, they burned like 
coals of fire. 

" ' I was fearful,' continued the man in 
gruff", ' that I should not settle for my fare 
in the morning, after the usual way ; but 
Jowler, who knows as much of his mas- 
ter's wants as he does himself, started a 
rare one just on the rise of the hill ; 'tis a 
fat buck ; an inch on the ribs.' 

" ' Me the gun hear ; me know your shot,' 
replied the fair Indian, clothing the soft, 
silvery tones of her voice in a smile. 
'Will eat r 

" We did not require a second invitation, 
and were soon in the midst of the repast, 
conversing at intervals of things in gen- 
eral, the times, politics, trade, and the 
Toad. We were going to Nashville, the 
strangers were travelling in an opposite 
direction, and were well pleased to have 



fallen into our company, even for a night. 
But there was something about the larger 
of the strangers I did not like ; yet I could 
not well tell myself what it was. His 
hair looked unnatural — so long, thick, and 
heavy — while the head of his companion 
was shorn so close you could not have 
lifted a lock with your thumb and finger; 
however, the supper passed off" kindly, 
and, after hanging an hour about the fire, 
' It is nine,' said I, addressing my party ; 
'shall we camp^ Such was the custom 
upon the road ; the stands were small, and 
were at night wholly occupied by those 
who kept them. The stranger in gruff 
proposed a mug of warm whiskey before 
separating. We would not decline the po- 
tation. 

" ' I have a trick at mixing which will 
tickle your palates,' said the stranger, 
taking the well-filled beaker from a slave 
who had answered the call. 

" The hot water and the sugar were added 
openly enough — there was no secret about 
it — yet when he filled and passed round, 
there was a taste, a something I did not 
relish ; it was like burned cork. 

" ' Rather nutty, stranger,' said I. 

" ' All the better ; the barrel was charred. 
Always char the cask for good whiskey.' 

" ' I thought so,' said I. 

" He looked rather queer, but as Ben Prn, 
who was esteemed a good judge in such, 
matters, drank with a smack, ' I let it pass.' 

" ' Did you drink your mug dry V said I to 
Pirn, as we were making arrangements to 
camp for the night. 

"'Yes, I did.' 

" ' I am sorry for it.' 

" ' Why so V 

" ' There was medicine in it.' 

" ' Fudge,' said Pirn. 

" ' I hope so,' said I, and turned away ta 
collect a bundle of twigs for my bed. 
Never spread your blanket on the naked 
ground, sir ; the earth is always damp. I 
knew a man who, by neglecting that pre- 
caution, caught a disease which changed 
him wholly to bone — head, body, limbs, and 
all.* 

" We slept on the leeward side of the rise, 
with a fire at our feet to drive off the chill 
air. The night was cold, and the wind had 
begun to rise ; yet the broad sky was our 
canopy, and we did not wish to lay our 
heads upon pillows softer than our silver ; 
it was safer there than elsewhere. Ben's 
daughter was on one side of her father, I 
was on the other. How she slept is a wan- 
der. Ben's nose ! it was like distant thun- 
der, sir. I have known it to shake a build- 
ing from the roof to the cellar, and have 
felt the jar myself. I looked a long while 
into the blue heavens, and watched the sl- 



* Professor Silliman, in his Travels, speaks of 
similar facts, related to him by a collector of ana- 
tomical preparations. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



13 



lent stars, wondering why the lights of 
some flashed, while others burned with a 
steady flame ; that is still beyond my phi- 
losophy. The owls answered each other, 
as if conscious that their music grated on 
my ears ; and the shrill cry of the wolf — 
howl ! I have heard men say that a wolf 
howls — such men, sir, never travelled in 
the forests of Mississippi — and I had a sus- 
picion hanging about me. It cost many a 
turn before watchfulness gave way to wea- 
riness ; but finally I, like the rest of my 
company, sank into a deep sleep, Ben's 
nose sounding in my ears like the hum of 
a fly-wheel. 

" Phew ! what a roar I it was like a young 
bull's under the torture of the marking-iron. 
' The withered Frenchman has taken time 
by the forelock, and is branding his cattle 
by moonlight,' said I, half waking ; and 
with a curse upon my lips against so hea- 
thenish an operation, I was again fast sink- 
?ng into sleep, when I felt some one fum- 
bling about my arms, as if he would have 
put a cord about them. You may sleep be- 
neath a thunder-cloud, sir, yet the settling 
of a mote will wake you. I sprang to my 
feet — the man in gruff' stood before me, 
his left foot resting on Ben's nose ; it was 
a mere chance — he did not intend it — he 
could not well have avoided it, it was so 
large ; his right advanced, and slightly 
bending, as if just recovering from a stoop- 
ing posture. In his hands he held a cord ; 
there was no time to be lost ; his costume 
had undergone a change since we parted, 
and his side arms were hanging belted 
about his waist ; mine were with my sil- 
ver ; I had rested my head upon them ; I 
closed with my antagonist ; he was strong 
— a giant, sir ; but these limbs had then also 
some strength." 

The boatman rolled up the sleeve of his 
jacket, and exposed an arm ridged with 
muscle. 

" I was a boy, then, of thirty-five ; now 
I am sixty. The struggle was desperate. 
When two men of courage and strength 
are matched, there is something fearful in 
the contest. Twice the stranger tugged 
at his belt, and I as often prevented his at- 
tempt to draw. We now stood like two 
wrestlers skilled in the art — life dependant 
on the fall. There was no trusting to the 
little tricks of the ring, no relaxing of the 
hold ; where the grasp once fastened it re- 
mained. Every muscle strained, the veins 
swollen, we stood, toe to toe, looking into 
each other's eyes. This could not last long. 
' Cleante,' cried the stranger. He was an- 
swered by a shrill whistle, and the boy in 
tenor fell dead at our feet. The ebbing 
life's-blood spurted high into the air, and 
faUing, covered us like rain ; the dog stood 
over his master and lapped the wound. 
Our hands relaxed their hold, our arms fell 
from each other. The stranger looked 



upon the corpse, groaned, turned, and 
fled. 

" ' Send a ball after him, Eben,' said a 
soft voice at my side. Ben's daughter 
was there. With one hand she presented 
a rifle, in the other she held a knife reek- 
ing with blood. I raised the piece to my 
shoulder — it never miscarried before : but 
when one aims at a man, there is a blur on 
the vision. ' And what is that on the knife V 
said I to Ben's daughter. 

" ' The boy's blood. Did you not hear his 
whistle 1 1 awoke with the first cry of my 
father, and watched every movement. The 
larger stranger had bound all the company, 
excepting you and myself, and I feared 
lest you also were about to become his 
victim. But when I saw you rise and close 
with the stranger, I watched my time ; 
the boy could not be far distant, and would 
come when called. He did so, the dog 
following close at his heels ; as he passed 
where I lay, I sprang upon him, and buried 
this blade in his side. The horses he held 
when called yet stand, ready harnessed, 
behind yonder tree.' 

" One horse stood there ; the other was 
gone. We unbound our companions, and, 
with much shaking, brought them to a 
knowledge of what had happened. We 
then took up the youth's body, and carried 
it within the house. The withered French- 
man opened his coat to examine the wound, 
and displayed the full, budding breasts of a 
woman ! Yes, the boy was indeed a wom- 
an," cried the boatman, starting from his 
seat ; " the stranger in grufl^ was Joseph 
Thompson Hare, who was finally hanged 
at Baltimore, for a robbery of the United 
States mail, in 1818 ; and my wife, in the 
corner there, is Eben's daughter. Come, 
Nanny," he continued, seizing the little old 
woman by the waist, " step out, step out. 
My wife, Mr. Didimus ; Mr. Didimus, Nan- 
ny ;" and he kissed the little old woman 
on each cheek, danced round her three 
times, and, raising her in his arms, sat her 
down upon his own vacant seat. 

" To Nanny's health ! may she live a 
thousand years !" cried the boatman, refill- 
ing the dippers. 

I drank the toast with a hearty sood 
will. ^ ^ 

" May we meet again," said I, stepping 
upon the narrow plank which led from the 
boat to dry land. 

Captain Longfellow took my hand, press- 
ed it more warmly than before, and bowed. 

" Good-morning." 

" Good-mornin'." 

That man has lived from his childhood 
upon the Mississippi. He knew every 
winding and islet from the mouth of the 
Ohio to the Gulf, long before the labours of 
Fulton were appreciated. He has been 
tiio architect of a hundred boats, has met 
and mastered a thousand dangers, and de- 



14 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



livered a hundred cargoes in safety and 
good order. Yet he is not rich, and never 
was ; it is unnecessary to say, he never 
will be. The freight disposed of, his tem- 
porary habitation sold to the lumber-mer- 
chant, or at the wood-yard, he would, in 
times past, repair to the gaming-table, and 
squander in a night tlie gains of months of 
toil and danger; then turn, with a laugh, 
a jest, or a song, shoulder his rifle, and plod 
his weary way homeward, more than a 
thousand miles, over long and dreary roads, 
through dense forests, and along Indian 
trails, to build anew, again embark, again 
float down the stream, again sell out, again 
gamble, and again plod — a ceaseless round 
— thp horse at the cistern. 



CHAPTER III. 

"We venture somewhat farther into this strange 
land."— DaMPIEr's Voyages. 

ARGUMENT. '"^ 

The Levee continued.— Steamboats. — P'ultoii. — The 
Bowie Knife.— Oysters.— An Irish Rc^vv.— Its Con- 
sequences.— Mrs. O'Toole. — Shriving.' "'■- 

I HASTEN over piles of lumber, old flues, 
barrels of pork, and hogsheads of tobacco, 
to that part of the quay which is most pe- 
culiarly characteristic of New Orleans ; an 
index of its future greatness : a living, vis- 
ible story of what are its resources, and 
what it is to be. The daily-increasing 
cluster of merchantmen which lie moored 
hard by, waiting a freight of pressed bales, 
look as if they had deserted their fellows, 
and strayed frorn their proper station. 
Some few years sin<?6 a Yankee captain, 
smarting under the inconvenience of a self- 
ish French policy, bid defiance to the port 
laws, cast off his hawsers, and, deserting 
the French, bore away for the American 
port of the city. Les Francais were thun- 
derstruck. Should the Yankee's assump- 
tion of " the responsibility" be overlooked 
and the example become contagious, the 
glory of their quarfer was gone forever. 
But in the midst of the levying of fines and 
the paying them, the city was reorganized 
by legislative enactment, and the three 
municipalities sprung into existence. Lit- 
igation was dropped, and the Yankee per- 
tinaciously retains his position with a now 
numerous " sail" of backers. 

" That part of the quay which is pecu- 
liarly characteristic of New Orleans," I 
mean the steamboat landiner Here all is 
action ; the very water is c vered with life. 
Huge vessels float upon us bosom, which 
acknowledge none of the powers of air, 
and wait no tide. One is weighed down 
to the guards with cotton — a freight of 
three thousand bales — one hundred and 
eighty th(*iisand dollars ! Twenty more 
lie side and side, laden with the same pre- 
cious, gambling, national, ruinous com- 



modity.* The twenty-first has just ar- 
rived, and is puffing, blowing, and wheel- 
ing in the stream, seeking a mooring. She 
is covered all over ; a mountain of cotton ! 
Docs its consumption keep pace with its 
growth 1 What will be the effect of bring- 
ing into cultivation all the productive land 
of Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, Louis- 
iana, and Texas 'if Terra ingens et Inter- 
minata ! The southerner may well trem- 
ble for the future : a market glutted, with- 
out the possibility of a recovery from the 
surfeit. The planter can never grow silk ,- 
that requires a poor, dense, white popu- 
lation ; and he can never grow wine, for 
his soil will produce none but an inferi(;»r 
grape, which will not cover the cost of 
slave labour.J 

Huge piles, bale upon bale, story above 
story, cover the Levee. A gang of lusty 
negroes is still adding to a heap of tea- 
thousand — $600,000 — unguarded, unpro- 
tected ; the winds fan it, the rains beat 
upon it, the sun bleaches it, the bagging 
and the rope rot and fall off; a consignee i 
at Liverpool, who is accust9jTJ€id;to handl6'' 
the commodity so preciously, would rwvi* 
stark mad with imagining one half of whaft 
is here to be seen. 't 

Pork without end ; as if Ohio had emp-' 
tied its lap at the door of New Orleans. 
Flour by the thousand barrels ; rolled out 
upon the quay, headed up, pounced up)On 
by the inspector, who pierces each through 
and through with a long hollow tubjfe-, ■ 
well calculated to bring away his peV- " 
quisites. A large area is covered \;^ith 
these two products of the up-country, E^'d 
still appears seemingly undiminished, ^ 
though the seller, the buyer, and the dray-, 
man are busy in the midst of it. ^" 

H'ere is a boat freighted with lead from' 
Galena ; another brings furs and peltry 
from the head waters of the Missouri — A 
three thousand miles to. the northwests'' 
When I contemplate the Vast re'gion;^/" 
country which is now just opening to cul^ 
tivation, and of which New'Orleans is the 



* Of all those who traffic in the raw material of 
cotton, the grower .and manufacturer appear aloi)e 
really to secure wealth. The great body of specular.' . 
tors, after many reverses of fortune, generally retix.pf'' 
irretrievably ruined. 

t Texas, from the extent and superiority of its 
soil, the congeniality of its climate, and the great 
and daily increasing influx of population from the.^ 
planting sections of our country, will probably, in lesS: 
than a quarter of a century, send more cotton to mar- 
ket than is now produced in all the Southern States. 

X Wme has been attempted to be grown, with 
equal want of success, in nearly all of the states; a 
fact which would seem to demonstrate the unfitness 
of our soil for its production. Upon the Continent of 
Europe, two adjacent vineyards will produce wnnes 
of a very different character and quality, thus proving- 
that more is dependant upon locality than upon the 
method of cultivation. 'I'he best wine of this coun- 
try is grown in North Carohna; it posses.ses the 
mildness and flavour of Muscat, without its cioymg^ 
sweetness. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



15 



natural mart, I find it impossible to set 
limits to the city's future increase ; how 
can I resist the conclusion that at some 
and not very distant day northern prod- 
ucts will be here collected in such quan- 
tities as will reduce its present great staple 
of export to an inferior rank in mercantile 
importance.* 

I could not have found an occasion more 
appropriate than the present to speak of 
the merits of that man who first applied 
steam to navigation. The creations of his 
genius are before me ; and I stand amid 
the traffic of a city which owes its increase 
mainly to the success of his labours. 

It is not necessary to look abroad in or- 
der to appreciate tlie extent of. the debt 
which commerce, agriculture, every de- 
partment of the business of life, owe to the 
memory of Fulton. I will merely allude 
to the nature of the carriage upon the Mis- 
sissippi prior to 1812 ; to the sparsity of a 
population scattered over immense tracts, 
unsubdued by the arts of culture, and ex- 
isting in a state of territorial dependance. 
What was at that time a voyage of montiis, 
performed with infinite toil and hazard, is 
now but a voyage of days. The keelboat 
is even retiring from the smaller water- 
courses ; and where a few thousand miles 
were traversed with much difiiculty and 
small profit, steam now visits its thirty 
thousand, scattering wealth throughout all 
its path. A population of one million has 
grown to seven millions ; towns and cities 
have sprung into existence, and territories 
have assumed the form of independent 
states. There grows not a hill of corn 
west of the Mississippi which may not be 
referred to the labours of Fulton ; and of 
the millions of our citizens, now enjoying 
the benefit of life upon the banks of that 
river and its tributaries, it is not too much 
to say, that two thirds would never have 
been blessed with existence, had not he 
despised the scoffs of ignorance, and been 
too conscious of the reality of his inven- 
tion to be turned aside by charges of folly 
and madness. He has made the great 
Mississippi Valley what it now is ; and yet, 
we may travel from the junction of the 
Alleghany and Monongahela, orthe Springs 
of the Mississippi, or the head- waters of 
the Missouri, through a country which is 
all his own, to a city which is indebted to 
him for what it is, and for what it is to 
be, without meeting a single monument 
erected by gratitude,! and without hear- 
ing his name once syllabled by those 

* Unless the projected railroad from Charleston, 
S. C, 10 Cincinnati shall create a new and success- 
ful competitor for the mart of those products. 

t .'^n intelligent foreigner lately asked whether 
the city had yet erected a statue to Fulton. He was 
refevred to the foot of Canal-street— the Steamboat 
Landing— " Those are his monuments," said he, 
" but you have raised them laiher for your own gain 
than his honour !" 



who are hourly reaping the harvest for 
which he toiled. 

I touch Canal-street, the dividing line 
between the American and French inter- 
ests. The population of the quay thick- 
ens. The staple productions of the river 
states lie piled about me in masses. The 
huckster cries his wares, and a show-box 
attracts the eye at every step, with its glit- 
tering contents of old watches, gewgaws^. 
Arkansas toothpicks, and bowie-knives. 

" Do you visli to buy V cried a little, 
thin-legged man, with a verjuice, coppery- 
face, in a villanous Jewish accent. He 
had watched my ej'e, and spoke, as he sawr 
it rest upon his wares. 

A beautiful bowie lay within his case, 
mounted with silver. I pointed to the 
weapon. 

" Aha, you will kill," said Verjuice, 
handing me the knife. 

I drew the blade from its sheath ; it was 
of excellent workmanship. 

"It is best to have these things," said L. 

Conscience said " No." 

"The city's reputation is bad." 

Conscience said " Fudge." 

" One might find occasion to use them." 

Conscience said, " It will be of your own 
seeking;" and I returned the bowie to its 
owner. 

Perhaps there is not one among those 
into whose hands these pages may rea- 
sonably be expected to fall who has not. 
seen a bowie-knife ; yet, as the opinion of 
society, even here, appears to be rapidly 
setting against its open exposure and sale 
in the market, I may be permitted to give 
the reader a hasty sketch of a weapon, 
which will enter, largely into the story of 
the. manners of our country, and be here- 
after spoken of as the anomalous product 
of an unsettled age, whose introductioa 
into the West set the laws at defiance, and 
retarded the progress of good order and re- 
finement a quarter of a century. 

Thp blade measures twelve inches ia 
length, fashioned of excellent material — 
the true Damascus was never better, lis- 
edge is keen, smooth, and so perfect, a 
barber might use it in his trade. The point 
is curved and hollowed at the back, cutting 
both ways, like a two-edged sword. It, is 
two inches broad at the heel, and of pro- 
portionate thickness. Its weight alone is 
sufficient to give effect to a descending;, 
blow ; and a child, thus armed, might well, 
intimidate a man of strength and courage. 
The Roman short-sword conquered the 
world. The Turkish cimeter at ene time 
threatened the liberties of Europe, and the- 
destruction of Christianity. The bowie- 
knife combines the superior qualities of 
both its predecessors ; the downward blow 
and home-thrust lopping a limb or piercing 
the stoutest armour, and the light sabre- 
stroke halving a silken cushion, or sever 



16 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ing a*liead with an ease and rapidity which 
leaves the hapless loser half nnconscious 
of his loss. Among the many means in- 
vented for man's destruction, it is the most 
effectual in execution, the most fearful to 
the sight and imagination ; and should its 
right use and exercise ever be made a part 
of the military education of our common 
soldiery, it will render them the most for- 
midable body of men that ever moved upon 
a field of battle. 

I walked forward. The clerks of the 
boats, with little paper books in their 
hands, and busily engaged in every direc- 
tion discharging freight ; and the clerks 
of the mercantile houses, also with little 
paper books in their hands, are busily en- 
gaged in every direction receiving con- 
signments. 

The houses themselves — the specula- 
tors in corn, flour, pork, whiskey, and mo- 
lasses (cotton, sugar, and tobacco are man- 
aged elsewhere), are scattered sparsely 
over the quay. Irish draymen, of whom 
there are upward of two thousand in the 
■city, are driving to and fro, Jehu-like, break- 
ing all the ordinances at once, cursing and 
railing, lashing their poor beasts, and not 
unfrequently, and with more propriety, 
lashing each other. Oyster-houses, small 
sheds, dot the inner margin of the quay. 
They are supplied from the numerous lit- 
tle bays which indent the gulf in the vi- 
cinity of the Mississippi, yielding the fish 
in immense quantities, and of a fine quali- 
ty : citizens- of every class, tribe, and col- 
our — the merchant and his clerk, the di- 
vine, the lawyer, and the physician, the 
captain and his crew, the hackman and his 
patrons, the master and the slave — maybe 
there found partaking of the luxury in ev- 
ery form, fresh from the shell, fried, stew- 
ed, and baked. 

" An' och, my darlin', are you the child 
to take away that same V. cries an Irish 
cartman to his brother, who is raising a 
barrel of flour to ^is dray. 

" An' it is you, it is, that'll say no to me 1" 
says the second, tugging at his load. 

" If ye be a man, by St. Pathric and the 
Yargin, I'll bate ye like a sack." 

The barrel is dropped like hot iron ; 
their loaded whips are shifted end for end 
— to it, brave hearts — pellmell, clip clip, 
tuck tuck, smash smash, their blows may 
be heard at a distance of three squares ; 
the battle thickens — the combatants in- 
crease : Irish draymen spring up armed 
from the ground, and take sides by instinct. 

Sccvitque aniniis ignobile vulgus ; jamque 
faces et saxa volant, furor arma ministrat ; 
»he clerks close their paper books — the 
merchant speculators give in to curiosity — 
the poor negro, whose true position the 
Irish labourer has usurped, and who hates 
an Irishman as he hates death, yells joy 
and grins approbation. Les gens d'armes, 



a body of police, whose chief qualification 
is to speak no language intelligibly, hover 
in the distance — and this is a scene upon 
the Levee. 

An affray intoxicates an Irishman ; the 
sound of blows acts like magic upon his 
nerves. As some men, from long habit, 
cannot resist the sweet enticements of 
brandy, so an Irishman, however peacea- 
bly disposed, cannot resist the allurements 
of a row. The remark is based upon ex- 
perience, upon the observations of travel- 
lers, of men noted for their acuteness in 
the estimate of character ; it is part and 
parcel hdminis, without which an Irishman 
would not be what he is. 

There is a certain inborn, ingrained pro- 
pensity, which urges him within the vor- 
tex of rowdyism as mysteriously, and, 
withal, as irresistibly as the magnetic prin- 
ciple draws the needle to the pole. And 
he is made of most endurable stuff. He 
may be mauled from morning to eve, and 
his intellects will appear all the brighter 
for the castigation. He will come out of 
the fight shaking his ears like a well-bred 
bull-dog, swearing by St. Patric that he 
has, as yet, had but a taste of the sport — 
they do these things better in Ireland. He 
will,.in the course of twelve hours, encoun- 
ter more mishaps than befell Mendez Pinto 
in as many years. " The Marquis of Water- 
ford is a complete impersonation of Erin ; 
and even his title is a bull," said I, closing 
the train of thought which had naturally 
sprung from the past scene of riot. 

" In faith, my honey, is it nothin' at all 
at all, to stand a botherin' o' bulls when 
the sowl in a fellow-cratur is aboot lavin' 
his body !" 

I looked sharply around me, in search 
of the owner of the voice which had so 
uncourteously assumed the right of chiding 
my meditations, and now first observed, 
curled up under the lee-side of a heap of 
paving-stones, something which had the 
semblance of humanity about it. I ap- 
proached, with some little misgiving, this 
new object for my investigation, which lay 
much like an opossum, feigning a total dis- 
interestedness towards worldly matters, 
and, after a close scrutiny of some min- 
utes, was about giving over the examina- 
tion to others, more skilled in the myste- 
ries of natural history, when the animal 
favoured me with a grunt, and, opening an 
eye, enabled me to discover the true posi- 
tion of its head. 

"A sad case!" said I, sympathetically, 
recognising in the lump before me a vic- 
tim of the Iri-sh row. 

The eye, which was red and fiery, an- 
swered the remark more expressively than 
words, and said, as plainly as an eye could 
say, that, although it lacked the strength, 
it had the will for a little more of the fun. 

"Will you die here, or shall I remove 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



17 



you to quarters more suitable to your con- 
dition V said I, half suspecting that my 
taciturn acquaintance was too far gone 
to exhibit a second specimen of the voice 
•which had first attracted my attention ; 
but I was quickly undeceived in my specu- 
lations. 

" Thruly, yur ivery inch a gintlemin." 

" Your name V 

" Pathric M'Cormic, God bless yur 
sowl !" 

" And where do you live V 

" Lave yur askin', is it 1 It's jist where 
ye find me, I'm thinkin'." 

" Where do you boards' 

" Ach ! an' it's there ye are, my darlin' ! 
it's the owld 'oman yur arter — an' a bluth- 
erin' good body she is, with her two purty 
■eyes a blinkin' on each side her reth nose ! 
it's whiskey that's the cause on't, it is — 
but the dear crater is sober any day o' the 
week 'cept sev^^.; The street, yur hon- 
our — " and the Inslunan sank into a state 
of insensibility. 

There he lay, abandoned, neglected, un- 
noticed ! The transient glance of the pass- 
er-by, attracted more by the peculiarity of 
my position — bending over the body, and 
laying my hand upon its bosom, to discov- 
er whether the heart yet beat — than by the 
every-day spectacle of a mauled truckman. 

" It is strange !" said I ; " I should have 
supposed a sick dog might excite more 
sympathy." 

" Yoti are unacquainted with the city !" 
said one, with a smile, and passed on. 

A dray drove past — I called — the boy* 
drew up. 

" Where is your load ]" asked the boy. 

I pointed to the body at my feet. 

"Drive to street," said I, seating 

myself upon the dray, and staying the 
Irishman's head in my lap ; and away we 
whirled up Canal-street, the rattling of 
carts and carriages, the bustle of business, 
the mingled voices of every language 
drowning whatever expressions of pain 
the sick man may have uttered. 

" Drive slower." 

" Can't help it, massa ; he won't hold in, 
his mouth so hard." 

" W'hy, you black rascal, you will jolt 
what little of life there is in the man's body 
out of it." 

" Massa say I loo long carrying loads ; 
must drive quick ; never fined. Make no 
sposable diff'erence whether he white man 
or goods," said the boy, turning to the left, 
and shooting into an unpaved street, where 
the soft path, yielding to the wheels, both 
checked his course and eased the sick 
man's couch. 

" Dis be—" 

The street was, as all the streets of New 
Orleans were a few years since, and as all 



* A male negro, whatever may be his age, is, 
Ittiroughout the slave- holding states, called a "boy." 
C 



which have not been visited by the effects 
of American enterprise are now, filthy, cut 
up by deep ruts, lined on each side with a 
narrow strip of stagnant water, and bor- 
dered with low, one-story, frame-built 
dwellings, whose roofs, old, covered M'ith 
moss, jutting over the footpath, and doors 
and window-shutters of solid timber, never 
open,* impart to the whole a most sombre 
and gloomy appearance. The Irishman's 
reference was general, j^et I hoped to meet 
with some one in the street who might 
recognise the sick man, and direct me to 
his lodgings. I had passed nearly through 
its whole length, anxiously watching the 
couiatenances of the passers by, and of 
those who, at intervals, went into and 
came out of the neighbouring houses, as 
silent as the grave. 

" It is a very still street," said I. 

" You neber here in de night, I reckon, 
massa," replied the boy, drawing up before 
a row of unpainted, black, ancient-looking, 
wooden buildings, which sat back some 
thirty feet from the street, and were wall- 
ed about by a high, close board fence, with 
an entrance opposite each tenement. 

" Why do you stop !" 

"You no see her motion, massa V re- 
plied the boy, pointing with his whip to a 
large, burly Irish woman, who sat smoking 
her pipe near the third door in the wall, 
while a second was dipping mud from the 
gutter and throwing it into the yard. 

" Ask the good woman what she wants." 

" Maybe it's no' the carcase iv Pathric 
M'Cormic you'ld 'ave there ?" screamed 
the old herridan. 

I assured her, after the mildest manner 
possible, that she was correct in her sup- 
position, and that, as the man was very 
much hurt, it would be a deed of charity to 
show me his lodgings. 

" Lodgin's ! It's lodgin's ye'd be arter? 
The divil a bit, for the matter o' that, had 
Pathric tasted these sax weeks agone, 
'cept the floor o' his dthray. But I'm the 
'oman that 'ates him, and you can jist come 
in wid the dthrunkard." 

I accepted the invitation, with many 
thanks for her kindness, which so won 
upon her heart, that she loaned me the 
chair upon which she was sitting, to be 
used for removing the sick man into the 
house. As we stepped into the yard, my- 
self bearing one end of the chair, the mys- 



* Towards evening the rambler will find them set 
just ajar, in a position which enables the quiet, un- 
obtnisive inmate to catch upon the walls of his room 
kaleidoscopic portraiiufes of the passers by. The 
jealous customs of the early Sjjanish colonists yet 
tinge the manners of the city's native population. I 
have often admired, while strolling through the 
French Quarter, the double doors, opening outward- 
ly, and window shutters of thick plank, peculiar to 
its dwellings; and have as often had my curiosity 
excited by a brilliant eye, or a well-turned nose, cas- 
ually presented before a modest opening of half an 
inch. 



18 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



tery of the woman with the ladle was 
solved. The whole area, with tlio excep- 
tion of a narrow path, was covered with 
filth, and fifteen or twenty hogs, of differ- 
ent sizes and condition, were turning it 
over, thrusting their snouts into it, blow- 
ing, grunting, and eating; apparently well 
contented to be thus fed. 

" Where shall we lay him ?" said I, 
somewhat puzzled to find an unoccupied 
spot, in a room of moderate dimensions, 
filled with filthy beds, old chairs, cooking 
utensils, pickaxes, spades, and a mass of 
trumpery beyond use, if not value. 

" Adoon the floor ; an' softer bed he 
never cared to lay his bones on," said 
Herridan. 

" Saftly, hinney ; saftly, saftly, Mrs. 
O'Throole," said the sick man, as we lay 
him upon the piece of mattress which the 
thawing feelings of the old lady finally 
prompted her to draw into the centre of 
the room, and spread out for his reception. 

" They ha' no bate the crook out o' yiz 
throat, Pathric. O'Toole is no O'Throole, 
ye baste." 

The sick man groaned. 

" Shall I call a physician V 

" A physician !" repeated Mrs. O'Toole, 
with a sneer, at the same time thrusting 
towards me a chair, as a hint not to be too 
quick in my movements. " I wid be plased 
to set my two eyes on the man who is 
betther than Mrs. O'Toole in that way. 
Yiz no saw the 'oman, perhaps, wid sax- 
teen sons all a dthrivin o' dthrays in this 
blessed city, an' one dauther by Mr. 
O'Toole that was. She's in owld Ireland 
at this present time, the darlint." 

The sick man screamed with torture. I 
bent over him, and felt his pulse ; it was 
feeble. I looked at his face. I had from 
the first seen but one eye ; both were now 
invisible. 

" He is going!" 

"Coin'! Where?" 

" To the next world, I fear." 

" The blessed Virgin ! and noo confess- 
ed!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, starting 
from her seat. " I'll rin for a praste." 

" I fear it is too late." 

" I'll call a neighbour.'' 

" Do." 

Mrs. O'Toole returned, after a short ab- 
sence, with the woman I had before seen 
throwing mud into the yard, accompanied 
by her husband and five or six children. 
They arranged themselves in a circle about 
the piece of mattress, and looked down 
upon it in silence. 

'' Pathric, my boy !" said the male comer. 

The sick man did not answer. 

" Pathric, my hinney 1" said the woman 
■who had dipped the mud from the gutter. 

" Out of the way, ye baste," cried the 
sick man, accompanying his words with a 
motion of his liead, as if cracking a whip. 



" It's the dthray he's dthriving, it is," said 
Mrs. O'Toole, wiping her eyes with the 
skirt of her gown. 

" Pathric, my lad, yiz be no hurti" said 
the male visitant. 

Patrick made several attempts to ^eak. 

" Thry it agin, my jewel," said the man, 

" Dead," said Patric. 

" An' ye no confessed !" exclaimed Mrs. 
O'Toole. 

" Call fadther— " said Patric. 

" It's no forbotherin'," said Mrs. O'Toole. 
I heartily coincided with the old lady. " Ye 
will confess to Red ; an' it's all one as a 
praste in extrimity." 

" Ye'U no kirn blather with me," replied. 
Patric. 

He groaned. 

Mrs. O'Toole beckoned Red, the male 
visitant, to follow her out of the room. 
When she returned, she put her finger upon 
her lips in token of silence, and, winking 
with each eye alternately upon the com- 
pany, approached the piece of mattress. 

" Here's a praste, good luck to ye, Path- 
ric, my darlint." 

" Is it fadther—" 

" It's no jist him, but a better, Pathric ; 
jist from the ould counthry, adown by Kil- 
nadock ; Father O'Shiney it is, my dear." 

" Wid ye confiss, an' throw up yer ugly 
sins, my son V inquired Red, in an assu- 
med tone. 

" Be we wid ourselves V asked Patric. 
Poor fellow ; he had given over all at- 
tempts at seeing. 

" Th' divil in the wide world else," replied. 
Red. 

" Is Mrs. O'Throole gone V 

" Intirely." 

"Thin, Fadther. O'Shiney, I'll jist begin 
at the ind." 

" If yir sure it's the right one." 

The sick man attempted to turn over, 
but was unable. He pointed to his mouth 
Red moistened his lips with a mixture of 
whiskey and water, and he made the dis- 
closure which will be found in the next 
chapter 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE IRISH.MAN's CONFESSION. 

" For he had power of confession, 
As saide himselfe, more than a curat, 
For of his order he was licenciat. 
Ful swetely horde he confession, 
And pleasant was his absolution." 

Chaucek. 
" blissful God, that art no good and trewe, 
Lo how that thou bewreyest mordre alway 
Mordre wol out, that see we day by day." 

Ibid. 
ARGUMENT. 
Shriving. — The Confession. — Mary. — The Death. 
"My mother was an honest woman," 
commenced the dying man. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ir 



" As is her son aflher her," said Red. 

" An' dropped me in the hog in Avon, 
where I lay sax weeks a suckiu' the swate 
dews iv hivin." 

" Och ! none o' yer blather ; would you 
be made a saint, an' put in the calendar for 
a miracle 1" 

" My mother — " 

"An' had ye niver a fadther at alii" 

"He nistled in Abraham's bosom afore 
the likes o' me was born." 

•' An' ye kim into this sinful world a pur- 
ty, cryin' orphin ; better luck to ye ; I'll no' 
forget the consideration in fixing the spell 
o' yer bastin'." 

Patric groaned dismally. 

" Wid ye no' quit blowin' like a stuck 
pig, ye fool 1 confiss clare ; spake thruth, 
an' I'll put out a bit o' the blaze." 

" I was edikit in the thrue faith." 

" Yer purty mother's a saint in hivin." 

" An' became a unithed son of Ould Ire- 
land, wid O'Connell the big." 

" Bether and bether." 

"An' kilt two Orangemen." 

" There go two whole years off purga- 
thory for that," said Red, striking his hands 
after the manner of a cymbal. 

" An' flid to Amirica." 

" Jist the place for the like o' ye." 

" Where they swore me a born native, 
an' dropped me five dollars for my vote for 
Prisident." 

" An' who was the lucky man that got 
itl" 

" In thruth, an' that's more than I can 
tell ; but he was born in Dublin, an' wrote 
a big htther to Christ's Vicar, the Pope." 

" Another year off purgathory." 

" I thin was promoted." 

" Aha !" 

" At a dollar a day, an' perkesites." 

" What might they be ?" 

" Bein' carried to all the elections for a 
hundther miles about, an' murphies found." 

And thus the sick man appeared, in the 
early part of his confession, more disposed 
to be humorous than grave. Indeed, the 
" ugly sins" he disclosed were so veiled in 
excuses, and so interlarded with circum- 
standtes extenuating their committal ; so 
frequently interrupted by the adjudgment 
of purgatorial penances, delivered ex cathe- 
dra by Red, to be appealed from and set 
aside by the dismal groans and whining 
importunities of the criminal ; all clothed 
in the richest brogue of old Erin, and often 
set off with the choicest Irish bulls, that I 
could, at times, have given in to peals of 
laughter. 

Patric had resided some months in 
New York, where he opened his career by 
throwing an illegal vote, as above intima- 
ted, and ended it with committing many a 
peccadillo which richly deserved hang- 
ing. He subsequently visited this city, 
and commenced " with dlhrivin a dthray ;" 



and " was no' the boy to worse his condi- 
tion." 

" An' now I'll confess a thrue sin, if yer 
sure Mrs. O'Throole is no hearin'," contin- 
ued Patric, after a long pause, which may 
be said to have appropriately divided the 
former and more light, from the latter and 
more serious, part of the shriving. 

" Sorry one else thin ourselves," said 
Red. 

"You must know, Fadther O'Shiney," 
commenced Patric, in an altered and more 
sepulchral tone, and in a phraseology which 
seemed to fall from the dying man's lips, 
purified in proportion to the weight of 
crime it revealed ; " You must know, Fad- 
ther O'Shiney, that I loved a young worn- • 
an in the ould country, who also loved me ; 
an' whin she learned I was about to flid to ■ 
Amirica, she kim to my mother's aa' 
watched at the stile by the fince. 

" There was no moon that night ; it was 
sorry dark ; so I cript from my hiding- 
place, an' kissed my poor ould mother for 
the last time, an' received her blessin' upon 
my head. ' May St. Patric keep you,' said 
my mother. I dropped upon my knees be- 
fore her an' prayed. Fadther O'Shiney, I 
have not prayed since. 

" ' Pathric,' said a voice I knew full 
well, as I stepped over the stile. 

" ' Well, Mary V " 

Mrs. O'Toole started and changed col- 
our. 

" ' It's kind o' you to watch here alone 
for the partin'." 

" ' Pathric,' said she, ' you must make 
an honest woman of me before you go, for 
the swate little crature will come laughin" 
into the world before you have half cross- 
ed the water.' 

"But there was no time for doing such a 
thing when the heritics were hot upon the 
scent ; so I quieted the girl by promises 
of writin' and sendin' for her whin I should 
be safe in a land o' liberthy. 

" ' May the great God bless ye, an' the 
one that is to be yours,' said Mary. 

" I did not speak, for the words choked 
in my throat ; an' whin I put my face to 
hers, our tears mingled ; it was a weak- 
ness, Fadther O'Shiney, which I am not 
ashamed of. I came to Amirica an' forgot 
the girl. I did not write, neither did I 
hear from her ; an' I had hoped she was 
dead, whin, about a month since, as I was 
dthrivin' my dthray home for the night, 
who should stand by the door but Mary ! 
I knew her, but she was awfully changed ! 
She was the purtiest girl in all Killarney 
whin I parted with her by the stile ; the 
smallpox had since done its work. ' Mary,' 
said I, irresolute what course to pursue. 

" ' Ah, Pathric ! Patluic !' said she ; ' have 
f followed you over the broad seas, an' 
thravelled two thousand miles, the larg- 
er part of the way on foot, to look on him I 



2a 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



love, an' will ye not kim down from the 
dthray to welcome me V 

" ' An' wliose is that swate little jewel in 
your arms, Mary T 

" ' An' whose should it be, but yer own, 
Pathric 1 It's bether than a year old ; I 
have brought it in my arms that you might 
look on it.' 

" I got down from my dthray an' kissed 
the child ; but I could not kiss Mary. She 
understood it, an' her tears flowed i'ast. 

" ' I have not come to ask you to marry 
me, Pathric,' said she ; ' I did hope that 
once, but disease has so changed me that 
I can't expect your love. But this child is 
yours, Pathrick, an' I wish you to acknowl- 
edge an' keep it.' 

" It was eight o'clock in the evening, an' 
the devil stood at my elbow. ' An' if I do 
not acknowledge it, will ye swear it before 
a justice, MaryV 

'" I must, Pathric' 

*' I took my horse from the dthray an' 
put him up for the night. ' An' now, Mary,' 
said I, ' let us walk to the edge of the river, 
■where we can see the boats glidin' up and 
down; we will there talk over the matter.' 
Mary put her arm within mine ; we walked 
to the ind of one of the wharves, an', sit- 
tin' down, talked till late in the night. 

" ' It's cold ; I must go. I'll see ye in 
the mornin', Pathric,' said Mary, wrappin' 
an ould cloak about her wasted body, an' 
huggin' her child to her bosom. 

" The hour was still — there was no one 
about us — the lamps of the city burned 
dim — the face of the Mississippi was un- 
ruffled — I could feel the mighty river sweep 
past in its course — the bells of the boats 
an' shippin' struck the middle watch. 

" ' Mary.' 

" ' Well, Pathric' 

" ' Did you ever do any great sin V 

" She trembled an' pressed the child clo- 
ser to her breast. 

"'Then kneel down here with me, an' 
let us ask the good God to forgive us.' 

" * An' shall the cmld kneel also V 

" ' No, it was no sin of his ; clasp it to 
your bosom, Mary.' 

" We knelt. She prayed. 

" ' Do you think we are forgiven, Mary V 

" ' I hope so,' she replied ; an' risin', I — " 

There was the sound of the rattle in the 
dying man's throat. 

" Plunged her, as she knelt pray in' for 
me an' the little one, into the bosom of the 
Mississippi. There was a splash ; the cry 
of a child ; a bubble ; an' the river swept 
on." 

"What may be the young woman's 
nameV asked Red, after a long silence, 
and choking in his utterance. 
The rattle was again heard. 
" Mary O'Throo— " 

Mrs. O'Toole staggered; she would 
Jiave fallen had I not supported her ; she 



attempted to speak ; her utterance was 
broken, disconnected, indistinct. 

The dying man became conscious of our 
presence and screamed. 

"Hellhound!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, 
recovering her strength, and springing like 
a tiger at the dying man's throat. She lay 
upon him, with her hands clutched about 
his neck ; his face became livid ; we hast- 
ened to release her hold ; the man was 
dead. 

" Shall I call a coroner V 

" An' is it no' a nat'ral death that he 
diedV 



CHAPTER V. 

" Let us do justice." — Jones. 
ARGUMENT. 
Police.— Better Order of Things. — To be attributed 
to American Influence. — The Division of the City 
into three Municipalities.— Its Effects. — The Ed- 
itor of the " True American." — Saxon Race. 

The incidents related in the preceding 
chapter naturally lead me to speak of the 
police of a city which enjoys, even at 
home, a rather questionable reputation for 
good order, and whose name abroad is held 
synonymous with midnight robberies and 
assassinations. That there was a time 
when much of what is said of the dangers 
of New Orleans — its desperate population, 
its ineflicient police, the inactivity of the 
administrators of its criminal jurispru- 
dence — was true, is proved by the very ex- 
istence of prejudicial opinions now gen- 
erally entertained, and not lightly resigned, 
by those who have not visited our city 
within the last ten years, and who were 
accustomed to see the gaming-table spread 
"by authority" at the corners of our prin- 
cipal streets, and to hear the ringing of 
silver, as the stakes were lost and won, at 
all hours of the day and night. But that 
time has passed by, and, as one somewhat 
acquainted with all the leading cities of 
our country, I hope 1 may be entitled to 
belief when I say, that I know of none 
whose citizens deserve a higher character 
for order and general propriety of conduct, 
or whose thoroughfares are stiller to the 
ear, and safer to the stranger after night- 
fall, than that of which I am writing.* 



* Of the large number accused of every variety of 
crime, aiKl annually arraigned l)efore the Cnminal 
Court of New Orleans, but a very small portion are 
connected with the city by residence or business. 
The darker crimes are mostly perpetrated by foreign- 
ers freshly imported from the prisons of Europe, or 
by such of the citizens of the river states as. having 
been long accustomed to a life subjected to little re- 
straint, suppose that here even such slight checks 
upon vice as they have been made acquainted with 
are wanting. For the crimes of such persons, whose 
characters were formed elsewhere, the resident cit- 
izens of New Orleans are not answerable. The quiet 
and security of the city after nightfall is a subject 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



21 



This extraordinary change of things is 
mainly to be attributed to the moral influ- 
ence of that portion of the city's popula- 
tion which is strictly American, or of Eng- 
lish descent. It will be seen, by reference 
to a note introduced in my first chapter, 
that the prosperity of New Orleans is to be 
dated from the day of its purchase from 
France ; and that its progress in popula- 
tion, wealth, and good order, has kept even 
pace with American immigration. It is 
difficult to eradicate old evils, and it re- 
quires many years to correct the vicious 
habits of a whole people ; it has not, there- 
fore, been, until within the last ten years, 
that the city has been relieved from those 
scenes of violence whose memory even 
now colours its reputation, and makes 
vogue the reports of transient visiters, 
who judge without examination, and give 
to the world as facts the results of a mor- 
bid imagination. 

No event has, of late years, so much ad- 
vanced the prosperity of New Orleans as its 
division into three municipalities, giving to 
each a separate municipal government, with 
all its attendant powers. This partition has 
enabled the American portion of our pop- 
ulation — whose interests lie almost wholly 
south of Canal-street — to transact business 
after their own way, untrammelled by 
French legislation ; and to expend, in the 
erection of public buildings, in the improve- 
ment of streets, in a more effective organi- 
zation of the police, those taxes which 
were before exacted without an adequate 
return. The gentleman who first project- 
ed an arrangement which has judiciously 
separated the clashing interests of the 
American and French population, and 
which gives to the rival energies of each 
free scope for action, has, as yet, received 
no reward adequate to his services — I speak 
of the editor of " The True American" 
newspaper — " Faithful and Bold" — a mot- 
to which possesses the extraordinary merit 
of being characteristic of the man who has 
adopted it. But it is of the nature of free 
institutions to forget the individual bene- 
factor, in an anxiety for the general weal ; 
and perhaps that quality in their constitu- 
tion, which subjects them to the charge of 
ingratitude, is the sole source of those hap- 
py results which have rendered our histo- 
ry one of unexampled prosperity. The 
same power is everywhere at work; and 
if the march of improvement, which is so 
plainly observable at New Orleans, is not 
equally obvious throughout the state, it is 
because its effects are here compressed 
within a narrower compass. 

There is among the moderns but one 
race of men who have shown a capacity 

of surprise to every stranger, who finds all his pre- 
conceived notions in this respect falsified, and learns 
that the tales of violence so rife abroad are not less 
applicable to New York than New Orleans. 



to perfect, by practical application, those 
great discoveries in science which distin- 
guish the last few centuries : it is the An- 
glo-Saxon. That race alone colonizes 
with success, and never recedes from the 
soil upon which it has once placed its foot. 
The very spot upon which I now stand 
has felt the successive feeble rule of the 
Spaniard and the Frenchman, only to pass 
into the possession of a people who, un- 
like their predecessors, grow stronger with 
age ; and who, rather than curtail their 
wants, create the means of supplying them. 
But if the Anglo-Saxon, like the ancient 
Roman, is remarkable for the develop- 
ment of those solid qualities which are 
the architect of national and individual 
greatness, he is wanting in the more deli- 
cate perceptions of taste, which refine the 
manners as well as perfect the productions 
of art and literature ; and he seems to halt 
as far behind the Sybarite, in the conven- 
tional courtesies of society, as he outstrips 
him in action. I cannot better illustrate 
the above remark than by inviting the 
reader to dine with me at my hotel. 

The clock is striking upon 3 P.M., and 
the passage leading to the dining-hall is 
filled, jammed, wedged in, with hungry 
expectants. The gong sounds, and the 
wedged mass shoulders itself into the 
room. If you step upon your neighbour's 
heel, there is no time for begging his par- 
don ; and if he disarranges your dress, you 
cannot expect the compliment in return. 
The chairs of a very long table are all 
filled, and nothing is heard but the hurry- 
ing to and fro of servants, and the clashing 
of knives and forks, and the other colabor- 
aters of mastication. It is wonderful in 
how short a time these things may be done ! 
Five minutes are long enough for a business 
man to devour his dinner ; and it is not 
until his appetite is somewhat blunted that 
he indulges in the sweet enjoyments of 
table-conversation. Then, indeed, the in- 
tercourse of intellect commences, and con- 
tinues to increase in a geometrical ratio, 
until a confused murmur, with a word, or 
even a whole sentence, at times distin- 
guishable, alone fills the room.* The ex- 
emplification deserves a separate chapter. 

* A late female writer upon the manners of the 
Americans has been accused of painting a caricature, 
and holding it up to the public as a picture of socie- ^l 
ty as she found it in the United States. I believe no-j 1 
unprejudiced American who has visited the same 
places, and conversed with the same people which. 
M rs. Trollope visited, and with whom she conversed, 
will question the truth of her pencil. The men and 
the manners which she has so vividly portrayed ex- 
ist ; the error which she has committed is one of ex- ._ 
tension, springing out of an illogical reasoning from ip 
particulars to generals. She has asserted that to be 
common to our whole country, which is only to be 
found in confined sections, and draws portraits of 
Boston after sittings at Memphis. 



-22 



NEW ORLExVNS AS I FOUND IT. 



CHAPTER VI. 

"Talking is not always to converse." — Cowper. 

" Talkativeness is greatly to be preferred to tacitur- 
nity, both for our own and others' pleasure." — Knox. 

" I believe those men who possess brilliancy of 
conversation in the highest degree are such as do not 
advance beyond elementary truths." — Stewakt. 

ARGUMENT. 
Table-talk. — The Respectable-looking-old-Gentle- 
man. — Prospects of the City. — '■ Bob." — City of 
Alabama. — Town-projecting. 

" Beans !" says one. 

" Sugar !" cries another. 

" Lead—" 

" Five thousand sacks of corn — " 

" The Mogul, freighted with flour — " says 
a snub-nosed man, in a mealy coat, at the 
head of the table. 

" Sold fifty hogsheads of medium tobac- 
co, at one half per cent, advance," cries a 
long, thin-nosed man, with lips steeped in 
ambia, at the opposite extremity. 

" What do you think of the ginseng V 
asks a gentleman in red hair and whiskers, 
some six chairs off at my right. 

" A better bargain than the furs," replies 
another gentleman, in a dirty shirt-collar 
and new stock, some six chairs off at my 
left. 

" I trust that molasses was not sour," 
observes a neat, dapper, bandbox little man 
of forty years, with a very broad ruffle at 
his bosom, edged with thread lace, as were 
liis wristbands. 

" I knocked the hides down at twenty 
cents," cries a large, brawny, red-faced per- 
sonage, bringing his fist down upon the table 
until it rings again, as if to enforce the fact. 

" Can we trade for that shot V asks a 
mere youngster of fourteen years, picking 
his teeth with a fork. 

" I think I'll try the other speculation, 
and buy lard," replies an old, white-headed, 
greasy-looking gentleman of sixty. 

"And how did you like the bagging?" 
cries a large-boned Kentuckian, in green, 
to his factor, in bl^3, hardly within hailing 
distance. 

" The rope was better," replies Blue, 
"but don't touch bees' wax." 

" Candles are running down, and soap is 
almost nothing," observes the dirtiest man 
at the table. 

" Colonel, suppose we exchange ; my 

lime for your shingles." 

/,"'^i, " Can't do it, unless you take the staves," 

*■* '' replies the colonel, who might be taken 

for a carpet-weaver, and would sit a horse 

like a bag of wool. 

" Lost a thousand on butter ; but oats 
are quick." 

" Feathers and flaxseed — " 

•' Pickles—" 

" Cheese — " 

" Sell your beer and castor oil to — " 

" This is not much of a market for leath- 
er " remarks a long, thin-faced man, whose 



skin hangs about his countenance in folds, 
and looks much as if it had passed through 
one of his own pits. 

" And buflfalo-robes merely stop to be 
reshipped," says a gentleman with a very 
ashy visage, and who is seized witli a fit 
of the ague as he closes the obsei-vation. 

" And what do you think was his first 
shipment ■?" asks a thick-set, coarse-look- 
ing fellow, with his knife and fork, one in 
each hand, upright, the butt-ends resting 
on the table. 

" Wouldn't undertake to say," drawls out 
his counterpart, sipping brandy and water 

" Hay and vinegar," replies the gentle- 
man of the knife and fork. " The first mus- 
ty, and the other as flat as my hand," suit- 
ing the action to the word. 

" Rum," cries a man with a very brill- 
iant countenance. 

" Ale," says another, with a large belly. 

" Coal—" 

" Wheat—" 

" Twine—" 

" Iron—" 

" Deerskins — " 

" Will you do me the honour to drink a 
glass of wine with me ?" said I, pushing 
my bottle towards a respectable-looking 
old gentleman who sat opposite. 

The respectable-looking old gentleman 
accepted the compliment. 

" Win you be pleased to inform me, sir, 
of the cause of this ceaseless reference to 
many of the articles of trade and staples 
of life, in which the whole table appears to 
be so intently engaged T' 

" These men," replied the respectable- 
looking old gentleman, "are planters, farm- 
ers, merchants, and merchants' clerks, en- 
gaged in buying and selling the produce of 
the up-country and the coast, and are con- 
versing with each other on matters of bu- 
siness." 

"And does the country lying upon the 
Mississippi produce, and send to this mar- 
ket, all the products I have here heard enu- 
merated V 

" Upon the Mississippi and its tributa- 
ries. But you, who have visited the Valley 
of the Mississippi but yesterday, and found 
the arts of husbandry already introduced, 
and in active operation throughout a great 
and fertile extent of country, have no rea- 
son to be surprised that this city, its natu- 
ral outlet, should exhibit a population, a 
concentration of capital, an activity, a ca- 
pacity for business unexampled in the his- 
tory of commerce. Situated upon the 
largest river in the world, with tributaries 
having their sources in distant regions, 
commanding already the trade of twelve 
provinces, with a stretch of country from 
which may be created twelve more, its 
destiny is illimitable. The world has yet 
seen no city with its natu ' 
and the time will come v ■ " 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



23 



liave seen one more numerous in popula- 
tion or greater in wealth." 

" Smoke him," said one on my left. 
" He's on his hobby," replied the person 
addressed. 

" I have watched the growth of this city 
from its kernel," continued the respectable- 
looking old gentleman, " ever incredulous, 
astonished, and momentarily expecting a 
reverse. It has kept steadily onward, un- 
til no accident, other than a change in the 
course of the river which feeds it, can stay 
its progress." 

" The old rat !" exclaimed the person on 
my left. 

" How he soaps him," said the other. 
The respectable-looking old gentleman 
scowled as if he had caught the last remark, 
and went on. 

" Sir, I remember when the sites upon 
■which now stand our finest buildings, and 
the very places over which now run our 
most business streets, were a mere mire, 
a bog, a frog-pond, sir ; and might have 
been bought for a song. Had I then fore- 
seen the things which were to be, I might, 
at this moment, have been the possessor 
of millions. The rising generation may 
profit by the short-sightedness of the past," 
said the old gentleman, drawing from his 
side-pocket a neatly-folded paper. 

" Now for it," said the one on my left. 
" A rare farce," replied his neighbour. 
" This plan," continued the respectable- 
looking old gentleman, unfolding the paper, 
and spreading it out before me upon the 
table, " will convey to your mind a faint 
idea of what is to be the central point of 
the business of New Orleans. I may not 
see it ; you will : yes, you will. I am an 
old man, without direct heirs ; no other con- 
sideration would induce me to part with an 
estate of such immense value in prospect 
— mark me, in prospect — with the present 
I have nothing to do — it is the great future 
I look at." 

The respectable-looking old gentleman 
paused, and contemplated with much ap- 
parent satisfaction the elegant lithograph 
which gave the metes and bounds of the 
landed estate he spoke of. It was a well- 
executed plan of a well-laid-out city. The 
streets had their names, even the houses 
were numbered, and the public squares sha- 
ded with a luxuriant growth of the most es- 
teemed ornamental foliage ; while church- 
es and public buildings innumerable dot- 
ted its surface, like islets upon a mariner's 
chart. I had supposed I had already vis- 
ited the different parts of the city, but the 
map before me induced me to conclude 
there was one, and that the most impor- 
tant portion, which had escaped my obser- 
vation. 

" Will you be so kind, sir," said I, " as to 
inform me whether these streets, squares, 
and blocks of buildings lie in the German, 
American, or French part of the city?" 



" Excellent !" cried the man on my left. 

" Sir, this is a map of neither of those 
suburbs,'''^ replied the respectable-looking 
old gentleman, '• but of what is to be the 
heart of the city. That theatre, sir, Le 
Theatre des Langues, so called from its ad- 
mitting on one and the same night repre- 
sentations in each of the five languages spo- 
ken by our motley population ; that theatre 
will stand on the lot now occupied by the 
' Red Church.' " 

" The Red Church !" I exclaimed, in as- 
tonishment ; " why, sir, that is twenty-five 
miles up the coast!"* 

The one on my left, and his neighbour, 
burst into a shout of laughter. The re- 
spectable-looking old gentleman eyed me 
for a moment, shook his head, gathered up 
the map, refolded it, replaced it in his side- 
pocket, and, as he rose from the table, ob- 
served, " Some of us may live to see the 
city mingle with Natchez !"t 

There was a great noise at the entrance 
of the Hall ; a confused mingling of voices 
— loud talking : " How are ye, Ned V 
" Right hearty, my dear boy." " Ah ! how 
are ye, Bob^" together with many other 
similar interesting questions and answers. 
The noisy group ascended the room, and, 
as it approached the respectable-looking 
old gentleman, a young man, who wore 
his hat on one side, with an immense breast- 
pin, and a large chain hanging from his 
neck, and festooned about the button-holes 
of his vest, sprang from among his com- 
panions, and seizing the old gentleman's 
hand, gave it three hearty shakes. 
"How are ye, old-stick-in-the-mud?" 



* The banks of the Mississippi, within the State 
of Louisiana, are always spoken of as "The Coast." 
t New Orleans is yet in its infancy ; what may it 
not be when the States of the Valley of the Missis- 
sippi, its tributaries, have developed all their re- 
sources? Cordova, the seat of the Omrniads, say 
the historians, occupied a space of twenty four miles 
in length and six in breadth, along the margin of the 
Guadalquiver ; and for ten miles the citizens could 
travel by the light of lamps along an uninterrupted 
extent of buildings. Surely New Orleans will some 
day be greater than Cordova has been. But we must 
distrust the historians when speaking of the extent, 
the population, or the wealth of ancient cities. El- 
macin computes the value of the gold and silver, the 
various wardrobes and precious furniture which fell 
a prey to Saad when he sacked the Persian capital, 
Madayn, at 3,000,000,000 pieces of gold ; notwith- 
standing the Persian monarch, foreseeing the fate 
which awaited his metropolis, fled to Jelwallah, ta- 
king with him his family, and the more valuable of 
his effects. " If we take" each of these pieces at the 
value of a dionar," says Crichton, " then the whole 
will be equal to £ J, .387, 500,000 sterling, exceeding, 
by X139, 159,375 sterling, the total value of gold and 
silver extracted from the mines of America between 
the years 1499 and 1803, a period of 304 years. But 
when we take into account the difference in the 
value of money then and now, the whole produce of 
all the gold and silver mines on the globe would not 
amount to that sum in lfX)0 years." A computation 
which, notwithstanding Crichton's sneer at the skep- 
ticism of Gibbon, effectually confutes itself. As a 
general rule, we should always divide by ten, when 
reading the historians of past centuries. 



24 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



*« Why, well— well, Bob, w^ell. Glad to 
see you. Have you done anything ?" 

" Done anything ! I should rather reck- 
on I have, if fifty thousand dollars are worth 
looking at." 

The respectable-looking old gentleman 
brightened up. " Fifty thousand dollars !" 
said he, examining the young man with 
the large chain and immense breastpin 
from head to foot ; " did you touch any 
money, Bob ?" 

" All paper," replied Bob. 

The respectable-looking old gentleman 
looked disappointed. 

" Good, though," continued Bob. " Cred- 
it from one to twenty years, with a mort- 
gage on the lots — purchasers must build 
before they die, or forfeit." 

A crowd gathered about the two wor- 
thies, and the respectable-looking old gen- 
tleman thrust his hand into his side-pocket. 

" Can you inform me, sir," said I, turn- 
ing to the person on my left, " who that 
respectable-looking old gentleman is 1" 

" A well-known character in this city," 
replied the individual addressed, smiling 
condescendingly. " The projector of Un- 
cle Sa7n, an imaginary town lying in the 
piny woods, some sixty miles to the north- 
east. A very healthy location, sir ; fine 
water privilege in cold weather, and des- 
tined to become the ' Birmingham' of the 
South — at least the green-grocers on New 
Levee thought so, and were ruined by the 
speculation. He laid out ' Bath,' which 
was to be a noted watering-place ; and is 
— -for bullfrogs. He has lately got a new 
crotchet in his head, and proposes to de- 
stroy Mobile by building up a rival lower 
down the bay. ' Bob,' the swaggering 
young man who addressed him so famil- 
iarly as ' old-stick-in-the-mud' — a title, by- 
the-way, acquired in his vocation — is his 
factotum, or right hand. A neatly litho- 
graphed plan of the ' City of Alabama'— a 
mere sand-bank, sir, about as fit for a place 
of trade as the Lv.ach at Nahant — was 
struck off some months since, and dissem- 
inated through the country. At the ap- 
pointed day ' Bob' repairs to the ground, 
and holds a sale ; and returns, as he has 
just intimated, with paper to the amount 
of fift}'' thousand dollars, which will never 
be paid." 

" That must be a losing business." 

" Not at all, sir ; on the contrary, it is 
considered thriving, and one half of our 
men of capital have gone into it. It is like 
shooting at a mark— you must sometimes 
hit. At the South, this kind of gambling 
works no permanent injury ; for by some 
strange distortion of taste, or, perhaps, 
foresight, those locations are alone select- 
ed which, from their barrenness, or stale 
of submersion, could not be put to any oth- 
er possible use ; but at the North, many a 
fine farm has been turned out to commons. 



The old gentleman's history is somewhat 
curious, and if you are at leisure, and 
would be pleased to listen, I will recount 
it." 

The noisy group had departed. The 
person on ray left, with his neighbour, to- 
gether with myself, and a man in black, 
with a ministerial air, were all that re- 
mained of the many who but ten minutes 
before sat at the same table. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE BIOGRAPHY OF THE RESPECTABLE-LOOK- 
ING OLD GENTLEMAN. 

"All is owing to the mercenary, low humour of 
the times we live in, who, grovellinpf in the baser 
modes of getting money by fraud and bite, by deceiv- 
ing and overreaching one another, scorn the glorious 
ways by which our ancestors grew rich, when they 
pursued, together with their private advantages, the- 
humour and interest of their native country, and of 
their posterity." — Humorist. 

ARGUMENT. 

His Debut. — Difference with his Consignees. — The 
Mayor. — French Language. — The Auction. — The 
Dancing-house. — The Swamp. — Brandy-cocktail. 
— Doctrine of Derivatives. — Slop-shop Bess. — 
Charivari. — Community of Acquits and Gains. — 
Another Rise. — Sues his Creditors. 

"That man, sir," commenced the nar- 
rator, " came to this city in the fall of 1812, 
the captain of a flat-boat, freighted with to- 
bacco. The freightage was to be paid b}' 
the consignees ; but, after the delivery of 
the cargo at the Levee, a dispute arising as 
to the good and sound condition of certain 
hogsheads of the weed, they, after the 
most mild and respectful manner, informed 
the old gentleman that they could not, as 
honest factors of their principals in the up- 
country, pay his charges without making a 
liberal deduction therefrom for certain spe- 
cified deteriorations suflfered by the tobac- 
co, and caused, as they alleged, by his neg- 
lect and want of good seamanship. 

" Now, although the old gentleman had 
never before been at New Orleans, or 
transacted business with a commission 
merchant, yet, as he was of good parts, 
and naturally observant, he was not long 
in comprehending to how great an extent 
the factors' regard for the interest of their 
principals influenced their refusal to pay 
his charges ; so he snapped his fingers in 
the face of messieurs the consignees, and 
cried out for the governor of the city. 

" ' I am de maire of dis city,' said a slim, 
bilious-looking, attenuated Frenchman, 
dressed, a dandy of that age, in the cast-off 
fashions of the preceding ; ' I am de maire 
of dis city.' 

" You must know, sir, that a Frenchman 
never speaks pure English. The race is 
constitutionally, physically, and mentally 
incapable of acquiring a foreign tongue. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



25 



It has been said that the Germans are good 
linguists, because, when they have mas- 
tered their own language, they have mas- 
tered the most difficult; perhaps it may, 
with equal truth, be said, that the French 
are bad linguists, because, when they have 
mastered their own language, they have 
mastered none at all ; however, you may 
have your own opinion, I have mine : it is 
not the want of mind, sir ; the vis animi, 
furor, they possess more largely than the 
English. 

"The old gentleman made known his 
grievance ; the mayor leaped upon a hogs- 
head of tobacco, and put it at once up at 
auction. ' Who bids for dis fine lot tobac 1 
qui offre, qui offre — fifty dollar do I hears ] 
cinquante piastres — going, allant — cin- 
quante et une — going, allant — alle.' 

" The gentlemen consignees, concluding 
this was nearly as strong a game as the 
noted 'open and shut,' or 'heads I win, 
tails you lose,' paid the disputed bill upon 
the spot. 

" ' You are a very smart man,' said the 
old gentleman to the mayor, pocketing his 
money. 

" ' Un beau garron,' replied the mayor, 
* will you join de guard V 

" ' Don't care if 1 do,' said the old gentle- 
man. 

" ' Vous parlez Fran^aise et Anglais 
aussi V 

" It is a city ordinance, sir, that a 
guardsman must speak the two dominant 
languages. 

" ' Ya, monsear.' 

" The mayor shook his head. 

" ' That's a settler,' said the old gentle- 
man, winking at the by-standers. 

" The mayor looked doubtful. 

" ' Ya, monsear,' reiterated the old gen- 
tleman. 

" The mayor, concluding that the words 
he found it awkward to translate were a 
Creole or negro corruption of ' la belle lan- 
gue,' closed with the old gentleman and 
walked away, thinking he had done the 
city some service ; and that was the first 
of the respectable-looking old gentleman's 
acquaintance with New Orleans. 

" But the old gentleman was too shrewd 
to remain long in the service of the city. 
He soon discovered, in his capacity of lifter 
of odd characters, and visiter of respecta- 
ble houses, that money might be made in 
a less arduous and more agreeable busi- 
ness. He therefore resigned his commis- 
sion, and, with two others, one of whom is 
now among our largest holders of real es- 
tate, opened a dancing-house in what was 

then called ' the Swamp,' now street. 

Were you ever in a dancing-house, sir?" 

" Judging of its character from the lo- 
cality you are pleased to give it, I most 
probably never was," said I. 

"Ah! in the Swamp; eh! always in the 
D 



Swamp, sir. They move as that moves ; 
or, rather, they keep upon the confines of 
the city, as your Western pioneer does 
upon that of advancing civilization. You 
must become acquainted. I shall be hap- 
py to give you an introduction some light 
night ; don't like to visit such places with- 
out a good moon, for fear of accidents. 

" The three worthies succeeded admira- 
bly ; just enough in number to fill all the 
offices and save servant hire. One played 
the fiddle, another beat the drum, and the 
third dealt out nectar in the form of brandy- 
cocktail." 

" Brandy-cocktail !" 

" Ah ! I see ; not acquainted with the 
mixture ! Boy, bring up four glasses of 
brandy-cocktail immediately ! 

" To go on with my story, sir : the three 
partners succeeded so well, that at the 
close of a twelve-month they had grown 
beyond their business ; always the way in 
this country — no man follows the trade of 
his father, or his own, longer than he can 
help it. You may find a man a shoemaker 
to-day, a dry- goods dealer to-morrow, a 
lawyer the next day, a divine the day after, 
and if he ends a state convict you have no 
cause for surprise." 

The slave returned with four partially- 
filled tumblers upon a waiter, a spoon in 
each. 

" Ah, this is it !" exclaimed the narrator, 
his eyes glistening with animation ; " help 
yourselves, gentlemen ; touch* — very fine. 
Now the difference between a brandy- 
cocktail and a brandy-toddy is this : a 
brandy-toddy is made by adding together a 
little water, a little sugar, and a great deal 
of brandy — mix well and drink. A brandy- 
cocktail is composed of the same ingredi- 
ents, with the addition of a shade of Stough- 
ton's bitters ; so that the bitters draw the 
line of demarcation. Boy, bring up four 
brandy-toddies ; you shall taste the dis- 
tinction, sir." 

I decUned the favour of a second glass. 

" You are new to the city, sir ? We all 
drink ; must do it. Nothing like keeping 
up a heat within, to counteract the heat 
without. It is in accordance with the doc- 
trine of derivatives, and I never knew a 
prescription after that school to fail. Had 
a boy of some ten years under my charge 
— very bright— remarkable head — caught 
in a shower — took cold — fever set in— set- 
tled upon the brain — raving mad — sent for 
a pliysician — prescribed a pair of tight 
shoes and bri.sk walking, till the toes should 
blister — carried into effect — boy mended 
rapidly — second day, repeat — third day, as 



♦ A late distin^nishcd representative in the na- 
tional councils from the State ot Mississippi nearly- 
lost his life in complying with this Southern cus- 
tom ; his glass broke in his hand, and he swallowed 
one of the fragments. 



«8 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



clear-heiBled as myself — never sick after- 
ward! 

" The old gentleman stepped from the 
dancing-house to the slop-shop. It was 
rising a round on the ladder. He pur- 
chased out an establishment of long stand- 
ing, next door to an elderly lady who kept 
a popular sailors' boarding-house. There 
was an advantage in it. The two propri- 
etors might play into each other's hands : 
a deep game. They did so. This led to 
an acquaintance which, with the course of 
time, naturally ripened into mutual esteem. 
She was rather a large woman — couldn't 
have weighed much less than eleven stone 
— with a broad face, pock-marked, red nose, 
pink eyes, capacious mouth, double chin, 
pendulous cheeks, bull neck, beruffled and 
beflounced with costly lace, fine rings on 
each finger, bating the thumb, a watch at 
her girdle, and rejoiced in the name of 
* Bess.' I think I see her now." 

" Where V exclaimed I, looking around 
the hall. 

" In my mind's eye, sir. If you see her 
once, you never lose her picture. The 
extremes of beauty and ugliness meet. 
She was one of them. 'Tis said the old 
gentleman once begged a lock of her hair 
to string his fiddle-bow, and found it too 
coarse for his purpose ! However, I never 
meddle with hearsay ; it is not good evi- 
dence. How they were married, or when 
they were married, I would not undertake 
to say ; although I have understood that 
the good lady wore two watches on the 
occasion, with extra rings on her thumbs ; 
while the old gentleman indulged to such 
an extent as to mistake the sounds of tin 
pans, gongs, cracked bells, French horns, 
clarionets, and all other villanous instru- 
ments, made by a charivari of some thou- 
sand strings, for a common Jews'-harp 
which Bess had unaccountably resolved to 
play upon for his amusement. Were you 
ever at a charivari, sir!" 

" Never," said i. 

" Never ! You should see one. Almost 
the only rational amusemeftt we have. No 
fashions in the city. No style. Balls no- 
thing ; parties nothing. The theatre and 
the drinking-shop are, indeed, always open ; 
but the last is too gross, and the first is not 
always intellectual : so we are, in a meas- 
ure, compelled to resort to the charivari. 
You should have visited the city a year 
since, sir. An old gentleman, well known, 
wealthy, married a young wife : fine lady 
—handsome. We congratulated him upon 
"his good fortune, and politely requested a 
contribution of five hundred dollars for the 
support of the Orphan Asylum. Old gen- 
tleman very crabbed ; wouldn't do it. So 
we gave him a charivari, ten thousand 
strong ; all kinds of instruments, from a 
table-bell to a steamboat : ten thousand 
-musiciaas, and thirty thousand spectators ! 



We kept it up three nights, raising two 
hundred and fifty dollars each niglit to 
cover casual expenses ; the third night the 
lady went into fits, and the old gentleman 
paid the thousand." 

" It was an indictable offence." 

" Indictable ! Would you indict the 
whole community! We were, moreover, 
disguised : a perfect carnival. You would 
have been amused by the characters. 1 
dressed as a cock ; always dress as a cock 
on such occasions : can enact the part so 
perfectly. Ecce .'" 

The narrator gave a shrill, clear, well- 
modulated crow. Chanticleer could not 
have done the thing better. 

" Cato ! turn that cock into the yard," 
cried the landlord, thrusting his head into 
the door, which he happened to be passing 
at the moment. 

" Admirable !" exclaimed the narrator ; 
" that man ouglit to know chicken, since 
he purchases two dozen daily ; yet he is 
deceived. 

" The respectable-looking old gentleman 
and his wife joined capital ; they became 
partners in trade : that is a provision of 
our law. Husband and wife are consider- 
ed partners in trade, and divide the profits. 
You are worth fifty thousand dollars, and 
marry a woman not worth a cent. Sub- 
sequently to marriage you accumulate fifty 
thousand more. Your wife dies child- 
less, without a will. Her fifteenth cousin, 
whom you never heard of before, comes 
forward and modestly demands an equal 
division of the acquits, and obtains it ! An 
equitable law, that ! However, such has 
not yet been the case with the old gentle- 
man. Bess not dead yet, and bids fair to 
live a hundred years. 

" The respectable-looking old gentleman 
joined capital, and opened a large grocery, 
ship stores, &c. : another rise ! They suc- 
ceeded. Luck is blind. I have resided 
six years in this city, and not made a far- 
thing. An Irish lad, who polished my 
boots the first season, is now at the head 
of one of our heaviest houses ! There 
must be a next world to correct the ine- 
qualities and oversights of this : the strong- 
est argument I know of in favour of a fu- 
ture life. They succeeded ; and in the 
course of five years obtained credit suffi- 
cient to declare themselves insolvent, sue 
their creditors with a good grace, and clear 
one hundred thousand dollars by the spec- 
ulation." 

" Sue their creditors !" 

"Aha, you don't understand it! The 
thing is done in this way. You are a gro- 
cer, and hold goods on credit to the amount 
of fifty thousand dollars ; you ship twenty- 
five thousand ' up river' on pretended sales, 
and dispose of the remainder, part cash, 
part time ; the cash you put in your pocket, 
the time you transfer to your • books ;' all 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



27 



plain and above-board. Should a friend 
have stored a few goods with you, all the 
better ; they will quiet your landlord, and 
pay the last year's rent. You then write 
out two schedules, one containing the 
names of your creditors, with the amount 
due each — sum total, $50,000 ; the other 
enumerating your assets, thus : 

" Imprimis. — A little ready money, perhaps . $750 
" Second. — Five hundred lots in a town laid 
out upon a quarter section of land lying 
somewhere, at 100 dollars per lot . . . 50.000 
.-•' Third. — Notes drawn by individuals resi- 
dent in Texas, and endorsed by ditto . . 9,250 
■"Pourth. — Claims upon that government . 15,000 

" Total, $75,000 

" You put the whole into the hands of a 
lawyer ; he takes you before the clerk of 
the court ; you swear that all is right." 

"Swear!" 

" The swearing is nothing ; oaths are as 
common as blackberries, and about as 
much regarded. I might trust in a man's 
word — his honour would bina him — but, 
when you require an oath, it is like taking 
a pledge for loaned money ; the borrower 
will cheat you if he can. I knew a pro- 
fessor of metaphysics, who held that it was 
as morally impossible for one to lie as to 
jump one hundred feet into the air! That 
man was acquainted with human nature ! 
An order of court is made, a meeting of 
creditors called, syndic appointed, proceed- 
ings homologated, and you step forth a new 
man, with a new credit, ready to renew the 
game, and run over the same track. Thus 
did the old gentleman. He mounted an- 
other round, opened a commission-house, 
received cotton on consignment, specula- 
ted in the article, and stopped payment a 
few weeks since for two millions ! It was 
but the other morning that he purchased 
strawberries to the amount of eighteen dol- 
lars for his breakfast-table, and denied his 
cobbler on the plea of poverty. ' Bess' has 
grown magnificent, and is now refitting 
their residence, which covers a whole 
square. The old gentleman paid, in Paris, 
a thousand dollars each for his window 
curtains, and yesterday informed the up- 
holsterer who put them up that he would 
iind his name upon his ' schedule V* I Ihmk 
you will know the gentleman when you 
see him again," continued the narrator, 
rising ; " permit me to leave my card with 
you, No. — . My friend here, the doctor, 
kills patients, and 1 wind up their estates. 
Good-evening." 

'i'he narrator bowed ; his friend, the doc- 
tor, followed his example. 

" Will you walk r' said I, addressing the 
ministerial-looking gentleman, who now 
sat alone at my side. 



* He feeds his turkeys upon paccan nuts at ten 
dollars the barrel, and boils them in Champagne. 



The ministerial-looking gentleman call- 
ed for his hat, and put his arm within mine. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

"Perhaps it is not to be wondered at that there 
is in this town a greater mixture of races than can 
be found elsewhere throughout Asia." — Sir John 

MANDEVir-LE. 

ARGUMENT. 
The Levee continued. — Evening. — The Shipping. — 
No Twilight. — Spanish Colonists. — Livingston's 
Code. — La Hermosa. — The Quadroon. — The 
Place d'Armes. — Spanish Sailors. — Little Gio- 
vanna. 

I AM again upon the Levee ; my new- 
formed acquaintance, the ministerial-look- 
ing gentleman, walks at my side. 

The sun is just dipping into the west, 
and the broad bosom of the Mississippi is 
bright with its departing rays, which dance 
upon its surface, as upon a mirror quivering 
in the breeze. The busy hum of life is 
hushing to repose, the whole scene grows 
mellow, and man, with all of nature, puts 
on a softer aspect with the closing in of 
night. A light south wind comes gently 
from the gulf scented with the sea. All 
that man has done, and all that man is, is 
before me. The merchantman and the 
steamship tell the whole story of art, of 
science, and of luxury ; of discovery and 
invention ; of the interchange between na- 
tions, imparting knowledge, harmonizing 
manners, creating refinement ; of the ex- 
change of the products of distant climes, 
supplying nature, and feeding artificial 
wants ; of all that has been since 1492. 
The Cathedral bells are chiming to ves- 
pers ; the flags of every nation — our own, 
the English, the French, the Spanish, the 
Dane, the Russian, the Swede, the Hol- 
lander, the Free Cities — are run to the 
mast-head to salute the setting sun. That 
custom speaks ; the most ignorant sailor 
understands it ; and, as he sees the shade 
cover the hull, and creep upward till the 
colours of his country are alone bathed in 
light, while all beneath is dark, his better 
feelings gush forth in worship without 
form. 

I have chosen this hour to visit that por- 
tion of the quay which is appropriated to 
foreign and coastwise shipping, because it 
is at this hour that the wharf \>Avi\c\\\y chan- 
ges its character, and assumes the appear- 
ance oizprado. The dull, dusty, dirty rou- 
tine of business is the same throughout its 
whole extent. The interminable chant of 
the negro, with its full, sonorous chorus, 
is here supplied by the hearty " Heav-yeo- 
up !" of the sailor ; 'and the cotton-bale, to- 
bacco-hogshead, and whiskey-barrel yield 
to bales of foreign and domestic manufac- 
tures, pipes of wine, and crates of ware. 

The shipping stretches away from the 
point at which I stand as far as the eye 



28 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



can reach, two miles in extent, three tiers 
deep, with their heads to the current, curv- 
ing with the river — a beautiful crescent. 
The bosom of an American heaves with 
honest pride as he looks upon the city, and 
this, its chiefest ornament — the work of 
only thirty years ! The last of sunlight 
has disappeared ; the merchant, weary 
with the day's activity, thoughtful, stoop- 
ing, his eyes bent upon the ground, hur- 
ries homeward, calculating his profits ; 
" Y-augh ! y-augh ! y-augh !" a gang of 
negroes, ever merry — there is not a surer 
test of happiness than uniform hilarity. 
Next come some half dozen sailors, in 
tarred hats, clean check shirts, white trou- 
sers, and slippers. They have just arrived, 
have just received the little of money due 
them, and are just starting into the city, 
with a sober gait, and an honest, open face, 
to see life, and get rid of their sea-legs. 

" Do you see something skulking, like a 
whipped hound, along the dark side of yon- 
der building V 

" A thief!" said my companion. 

" No ; it is a land-shark, or sailors' land- 
lord ; the pimp and pander to all his vices. 
He i-s watching for, and will soon pounce 
upon his prey. Poor Jack goes into the 
city sober, honest, clean : how different 
will be his return ! Is there no remedy 
for so great an evilT' 

My companion shook his head. " I have 
been for ten years striving to dispel the 
moral darkness which obscures the minds 
of my fellow-men," said he, "and — have 
lost my own soul!" 

I turned with surprise. My companion 
covered his face with his handkerchief. 



There is no twilight at the 30th degree 
north latitude. That sweetest of the sis- 
ter-hours — that hovering between light 
and darkness, in summer so mild, in win- 
ter so brilliant, ai all seasons of the year so 
tranquillizing to those whose feelings have 
been set on edge by the past day's home- 
ly labours, is here unknown ; and already 
the stars begin to twinkle forth, one by 
one, bright, and unobscured by vapour. 
New Orleans, though lapped in swamp, 
possesses a pure atmosphere. The stars 
come twinkling forth one by one ; but 
there are those which shine in pairs, and 
of them, two are now beaming upon me 
with all the power of youth and beauty. 
The lady is a Creole, a native of the stale, 
and is the- first harbinger of the change 
now going on — of the metamorphosis of 
the quay into the prado. The gentleman 
upon whose arm she rests is a descendant 
of Old Spain ; his ancestors came over with 
O'Reilly ; and he has been taught, from 
his youth, to speak of the days of the Bar- 
on Caroudelet as the golden age of Lou- 



isiana. He walks with a measured step,, 
erect, proud, bewhiskered, and mustached ; 
let him pass. It is, indeed, to be lament- 
ed that the weaknesses of men prove he- 
reditary, while their virtues die with the 
possessors. There never existed a people 
more heroic in action than were the peo- 
ple of Old Spain ; and there never existed 
a people more degraded in condition than 
are at this time their descendants. The 
enumeration of what has been but exposes 
the nakedness of what is. 

The greatness of Spain has left its im- 
press upon the institutions of Louisiana. 
Its laws, than which none are more simple 
in structure, more equitable in spirit, or 
better adapted to attain the end proposed, 
pervade and colour all her legislation. 
They compose the corner-stone whereon 
Livingston and his coadjutors raised their 
superstructure of codification ; and they 
are the only valuable part of the whole 
building.* The Spanish colonists introdu- 
ced the laws of Spain into Louisiana ; and 
they made the colony what it was at the 
time of its sale to the United States. f The 
Spanish colonists were men of action ; but 
their descendants, numbering about eight 
thousand, are fast decreasing, and are only 
not less than the Italians in the city's mot- 
ley population. 

But the lady — La Hermosa— God bless 
us, how they swarm upon one ! The whole 
scene has changed while I have stood idly 
talking. La Hermosa passed by some tea 
minutes since ; I can just see her mantil- 
la floating in the distance. The sweet 
brunette ! But others, equally pretty, are 
moving towards me with an even, sailing 
motion — illae vel intactas segetis per sum- 
mas volarent arenulas — and I may pencil 
at leisure. 

I stand, with my note-book in my hand, 
reclining against one of the piles which, 
driven deep into the earth, are fixed at short 
intervals throughout the whole length of 
the quay ; my eye bent upon the passing- 
crowd, endeavouring to catch the traits of 
La Hermosa. The moon, now mounting 
its eastern steep, pours its soft and silvery 
light full upon the open page. Have you 
ever seen a cloud of paroquets upon the 



* There is a strange misapprehension existing- 
abroad of the late Edward Livingston'sc labours ia 
codification. His great and original work on Crim- 
inal Jurisprudence, containing " a Code of Crimes 
and Punishments," "a Code of Proceeding," "a 
Code of Evidence," and " a Code of Reform and 
Prison Discipline," never has been, and probably 
never will be, adopted by Louisiana. The " Civil 
Code" and " Code of Practice" of Louisiana are 
mere compilations — an attempt to amalgamate Ro- 
man, Spanish, French, and English legislation and 
customs, and the opinions of legal writers — hastily 
got up, crude, undigested, full of redundancies, and 
marred with omissions and glaring inconsistencies. 

+ Although the French were its first and last 
possessors, I believe history will sustain the text. 
France was never very successful in coionization. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



29 



^ing, glittering and shining with all the 
colours of the rainbow in a noonday sun 1 
And could Doughty select a bird from the 
flock, and picture its plumage upon can- 
vass 1 All shades, from deepest black to 
purest white, are here so mixed and jum- 
bled together, and pass in such close and 
rapid succession, as to produce upon one's 
vision an impression similar to that caused 
by a revolving cylinder with the seven 

Trimitive colours spread upon its surface.* 
cannot, then, do better than to draw from 
tlie pages of a popular writer, whose pen 
is as true as it is graphic. f That sex, 
whose chief and more esteemed qualities 
are physical, never degenerates ; and La 
Hermosa in New Orleans differs but little 
from La Hermosa in Madrid. 

" She is rather under than above the 
middle size, with a faultless shape, which 
is seen to tenfold advantage through the 
elastic folds of her basquena. Though her 
complexion be pale, it is never defiled by 
rouge. Her teeth are pearly, lips red, eyes 
full, black, and glowing. Such is La Her- 
mosa at rest ; when she advances, each 



* Domestic slavery is a great leveller. Through- 
out the South there are but two classes, the white 
and the black. Even here, upon the quay, moon- 
jight, 8 P.M., the observation is most strikingly il- 
lustrated. When I passed through Tennessee, I trav- 
elled in company with a proprietor of the mail-coach 
in which 1 w?.s riding. At Nashville one of his agents 
compleiined most bitterly to the great man, because 
"mine host of the Nashville Inn" would not suffer 
" coachee" to dine at the same table with his " bag- 
gage." " My drivers are gentlemen," replied the pro- 
prietor ; " and if Mr. does not treat them as such, 

I shall move the ' line' to another house !" " Slavery 
is a conservative of liberty," said Duff Green. If 
equality of intercourse is liberty, he might have gone 
farther, and made it creative. Yet there is much 
truth in the observation. 

t North, in the"NoctesAmbrosianae," says, "The 
author of ' A Year in Spain' and Washington Irving 
are the only good writers which the American Re- 
public has produced." And if good writing consists 
in imparting enjoyment, without that irksomeness 
which IS attendant upon the laboured periods and 
measured rhythm of most of the line writing of the 
present day, Lieut. Mackenzie may well rank with 
the highest. Our modern traveller deals too much 
in generals ; he is altogether too philosophical ; and 
carries the admirable art of reasoning from particu- 
lars to generals into subjects where its chemistry 
cannot but be injurious. Endeavouring to impart 
much in a few words, he evaporates rather than con- 
solidates his knowledge. Instead of giving the reader 
facts, he presents him with bold inferences, as the 
square and compass wherewith to measure the height 
and depth of the moral and political state of a people. 
The author of " A Year in Spain" judged differently 
of the duties of a writer of travels. He knew that 
oiie can learn more of men and manners by half an 
hour's living intercourse than from all the books that 
ever were written ; and knowing this, he has given 
us a faithful picture of what he saw. With him all 
is life, action. His book is a continued drama 
throu sellout, and the interest is sustained as well by 
the freshness of the incidents, and the faithful de- 
hneation of character, as by the admirable ingenuity 
of the writer. We travel with him, enter into his 
perils, and rejoice in his escapes, and, at last, close 
the book almost persuaded that we ourselves have 
made the tour of Spain. 



0^ c 



4^ Wv>*!Ct. 

^ J ■ 



motion becomes a study. Her step, though 
bold and quick, is yet harmonious, and the 
rapid action of her arms, as she adjusts her 
mantilla, is an index of the impatient order 
of her temperament. As she moves for- 
ward, she looks with an undisturbed, yet 
pensive, eye upon the men that surround 
her ; but, if you have the good fortune to 
be an acquaintance, her face kindles into 
smiles, she beams benignantly upon you, 
and returns your salute with the most in- 
viting grace. Then, if you have a soul, you 
lay it at once at her feet." 

This is a faithful picture of La Hermosa 
in youth. What is she in age ] Perhaps, 
as a faithful chronicler, 1 should pencil her 
grandmother, who is now hobbling past, 
muttering maledictions upon the slowness 
of her foot, the hardness of the path, the 
gayety of others, and her own loneliness ; 
but it may be sufficient to remark that, if 
the Spanish senorita is the most beautiful 
of women, the spell, here at least, is broken 
with marriage. The fine-moulded limb 
loses its roundness, the lips grow thin, 
even its lustre passes from the eye, and 
the donna sinks into the duenna. 

The fair northerner, with the glow of 
health upon her cheek, regular features, 
and an eye which has more of intellect 
than of passion, asks no description ; and 
La Belle Franqaise will adorn another page. 
But there walks one, the representative of 
a class whose look and every movement, 
whose whole existence is love. Related 
by blood to two of the races into which the 
human family is divided, she is excluded 
from each, and stands alone. Her station 
in society is here by no means questiona- 
ble. Her figure is perfect, and her face — 
sensuality moulded into beauty. She has 
known from childhood her true position, 
and might teach the Roman poet his own 
art. She is above the ordinary height, and 
moves with a free, unrestrained air, distin- 
guished for grace and dignity. There is 
nothing of maiden coyness about her, while 
she looks upon the passer by with an eye 
which invites curiosity. She is a- rjaole , 
and, perhaps I need not add, aquarteronne. 
Her caste is numerous in the city, and is 
now referred to, because it, at this hour, 
forms the chief attraction of the quay ; its 
origin and manner of living will be consid- 
ered in a future chapter. 

Jews and Gentiles, the Frenchman, Ital- K 
ian, Spaniard,- German, and American, of 
all conditions and occupations, with their 
wives, or daughters, or mistresses, are 
moving to and fro, turning to the right and 
left, winding their way through labyrinths 
of merchandise, unmindful of dust and dirt, 
and chatting of all that occupies us mortals 
here below. What a hubbub ! what an as- 
semblage of strange faces, of the repre- 
sentatives of distinct people ! What a con- 
tact of beauty and deformity, of vulgarity 



C-ti 



30 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



and good-breeding! What a collection of 
costumes, from the habit of the German 
boor, just imported, to the toilet of the 
petit maitre, a la Paris ! And here we are 
at the market, surrounded with fruiterers, 
the venders of oranges, pineapples, cocoa, 
monkeys, parrots, and ladies' lap-dogs. 
The open square opposite is the Place 
cfArmes, once the centre ornament* and 
boast of the city, now the field wherein 
" The Legion " delights to amuse itself 
with military evolutions. It is now occu- 
pied by a few persons, who are sitting 
upon the green-sward near the jet-d''eau, 
seemingly enchanted with the sounds of 
a guitar which rise soft upon the ear. My 
companion, the ministerial gentleman, who 
had been hitherto taciturn, gloomy, and dis- 
tracted, appeared enlivened by the music, 
and proposed that we should enter within 
the paling of the square. 

The group is composed of Spanish sail- 
ors, in the every-day dress of the ship- 
board, arranged in a circle about one of the 
company, who is both playing and accom- 
panying his instrument with his voice. 
The listeners keep time with their hands, 
and join in the burden, which returns at 
the close of each strophe of four lines. 
The words are a lively, but rude romance, 
in redondillas metre, made up of the usual 
quantity of love, jealousy, and revenge. 

" A pretty story, very prettily told," said 
I, addressing the musician in Spanish, as 
his last strain died upon the ear. 

" I am glad you like it," replied the sailor. 

" And who is the writer of the romance V 

The hardy tar hung his head in all the 
modesty of authorship. 

" It is one of Jack's own," said a brother 
of the forecastle. 

"Indeed! is Jack a poetl" 

"A bit of an improvisatore," replied 
Tar. " A small gift from the Virgin, which 
enables him and his friends to while away 
an idle hour." 

" I am but a p^or rhymer," said Jack, 
" and hold but lightly a quality which is 
not rare among my countrymen." 

" Yet you are the first of your caste I 
ever met with." 

Jack shrugged his shoulders. " But if 
your honour is truly not in jest, where can 
your honour have passed all- the days of 
your life ^ certainly not on the broad plains 
of Castile, or among the green vines of 
Italy !" 

I assured Jack I had never seen the sun 
rise on the other side of the water. 

" Then you must listen to little Giovan- 
na, the Italian improvisatrice ; she was 
lapped in song, and pours forth verse as a 

* " The old city, properly so called" — now inclu- 
ded in the first municipality—'" is built in the form of 
a parallelogram, of which ihe longer sides are 1320 
yards, and the shorter, or the depth of the city to- 
wards the swamp, 700 yards." — Encyc. Amer 



boatswain pours out grog — all the freer for 
gold." 

" She does not prostitute her inspiration, 
Jack?" 

" She's no prostitute, your honour, but 
turns an honest real by her gift." 

" And I know no reason why she, more 
than the nobler bard, should be debarred 
from bartering rhyme for food. So play 
the pilot, Jack, and I will settle the bill of 
our night's entertainment." 

The man of the guitar rose, and led the 
way; his companions followed, while the 
ministerial-looking gentleman and myself 
brought up the rear of the procession, lis- 
tening with much pleasure to a light im- 
promptu, which the gifted sailor poured 
forth in praise of the little Giovanna — start- 
ing the stillness of the night, and often 
bringing us in near approximation to the 
watch-house. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE IMPROVISATRICE. 

" And as the new abashed nightingale, 

That stinteth first whan she beginneth sing. 
Whan that she heareth any heerdes tale, 

Or in the hedges any wight stearing, 
And after siker doeth her voice out ring." 

Chaucer. 
ARGUMENT. 
Locality. — The Bargain. — Little Giovanna. — The 
Improvisation. 

We halted before one of those hovels, 
to be found in every city, which often lead 
one to ask why it is that men are to be 
found who prefer poverty in a crowded 
town, with all its attendant evils, want of 
every kind, impurity, disease, to the noble 
independence of the wild woods, where 
there is room without rent, and food, to be 
purchased at a less expense of labour than 
the hard-earned pittance which half sup- 
plies the diurnal cravings of appetite ! 
The whole structure of society is built 
upon the shoulders of the poor : take away 
poverty, and wealth grovels in the dust. 
It is a long time since a wise and a holy 
man asked, " Hath not the potter power 
over the clay, of the same lump to make 
one vessel unto honour, and another unto 
dishonour ■?"' but who among the proud has 
learned hurnility of this question ! 

Jack threw open the door, and showed 
us in, as if it had been his own house. 
And well he might, for we were warmly 
welcomed by a dozen human voices, with- 
out enumerating the more questionable sa- 
lute of dogs, monkeys, and parrots, a 
beastly collection, which is invariably to 
be met with in the dwellings of the lower 
French, Spaniards, and Italians. Twelve 
in a room of twenty feet by twenty-four, 
with all the means and appurtenances of 
living — chairs, tables, beds, and cooking 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



SI 



utensils, with sundry heaps of West India 
fruit, our Italian's staple in trade. After a 
hasty introduction, we seated ourselves as 
we best might, while Jack, in his own dip- 
lomatic way, entered upon the object of 
our visit. The terms were mutually agreed 
upon, and the contract closed. The father 
measured his daughter's inspiration by 
time, and trafficked in it at so much the 
" quarter of an hour." I bargained for the 
duration of a story, a sort of wholesale pur- 
chase, in which I might be gainer or loser, 
according to the violence of the afflatus. 

" Giovanna," cried the father, in Italian, 
" here are two gentlemen who wish a touch 
of your quality. They pay well ; sing 
sweetly, and you shall have an hour of hol- 
yday in the morning." 

My eyes had twice circled the room in 
search of the sibyl, but had fallen upon no 
face which bore traces of the poetic fire, 
always excepting my cicerone, whose fea- 
tures, though ridged with many a tempest, 
and blackened by a thousand tropical suns, 
exhibited, as some one has said of Dampier, 
that delicacy of contour which is always 
the accompaniment of genius. 

A girl of some fourteen years, who sat 
in one corner of the apartment almost bu- 
ried amid a heap of oranges, the rinds 
of which she was most industriously en- 
gaged in polishing, rose and presented 
herself in answer to the call. She was 
poorly, very poorly clad ; her feet uncov- 
ered ; her hair dishevelled, torn, entangled ; 
and her whole person exhibiting palpable 
evidence of an utter ignorance of water. 
It was the little Giovanna ! Her form was 
good ; her face possessed of the fulness of 
youth; her forehead oval, and projecting; 
her eyes — but I could not see them, for 
they were bent upon the floor. The father 
spoke some words of encouragement, kiss- 
ed her forehead, and placed her in the cen- 
tre of the room. 

" Will the gentlemen give me an argu- 
ment ?" asked the little Giovanna, and, as 
she spoke, she raised her eyes and look- 
ed upon us. They were like the vault of 
heaven, when clear, without a cloud ; it 
justifies all our young hopes, and is the 
home of all we love. 

I hesitated. 

" It is a better test of my child's power," 
said the father ; " select yourself the sub- 
ject of the story you wish woven into 
verse, and you will be sure she does not 
draw upon memory." 

" David in the cave of AduUam," said my 
ministerial-looking companion. 

" That will never do," said I. " Italia's 
poesy is so redolent with Holy Writ that the 
young sibyl will find her path a travelled 
one. Let us seek in our own wilds a theme 
new to her genius." 

But the breath of inspiration was strong 



upon her, and the little Giovanna waited 
not for our seeking. Her eyes glanced 
rapidly from us to those of her friends who 
surrounded her, and it soon became appa- 
rent that she was strongly affected by the 
contrast which our outward appearances 
exhibited. Her form dilated ; her face be- 
came flushed, and the veins of her neck 
were filled near to bursting ; then, closing 
her eyes, as if in sleep, she poured into- 
our ears a song of verse so sweetly modu- 
lated, yet in a voice so low that it seemed 
like soft music heard at a distance — al- 
most inaudible. It spoke of charity for the 
poor; their wants, their sufferings, and' 
their crimes, more than half excused by 
their temptations. It drew a picture which,, 
like all the pictures touched by genius, is 
daily to be seen among men, a picture of 
utter deprivation ; but the good Samaritan 
stood not by, for she had met with none. 

My ministerial-looking companion cov- 
ered his face with his hands ; and I saw a 
tear trickle down from between his fingers. 

" It is too true," said he, mournfully. 

" True !" The sibyl caught at the word ; 
it turned the current of her thoughts ; it 
planted passion where before was resigna- 
tion, and excited anger and the hope of re- 
venge, where before seemed only depreca- 
tion and desire of pity. "True!" and 
throwing her arms into the air, and un- 
closing her eyes, which glared as if start- 
ing from their sockets, she burst forth into 
a flood of invective clothed in verse of the 
wildest and most varied measure. We 
started with astonishment ; it was passing 
from the lute to the trumpet; it was hear- 
ing words of defiance when most we look- 
ed for peace ! The miser would have trem- 
bled. How hardly shall a rich man entei 
into the kingdom of Heaven ! " And in 
hell, he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- 
ments, and seelh Abraham afar off, and 
Lazarus in his bosom." We were hurried 
irresistibly along with the torrent; our feel- 
ings caught the contagion, and the excite- 
ment of attention, expectation, and won- 
der had become painful, when the sibyl's- 
own powers of endurance appeared ex- 
hausted, and, descending gradually from the 
height she had attained, she sang of Ruth 
gleaning in the fields of Boaz till she sank 
calm and helpless into her father's arnis^ 
with words of universal love dying upon 
her lips. 

We turned from the house as we had 
approached it, with honest Jack leading the ■ 
way, and singing aloud to the praise of the 
little Giovanna. while the remainder of the 
company joined ever and anon in a chorus 
wishing long life and a happy one to her 
who had sung so divinely. We parted at 
the square"; but not before the hearty tars 
and the landsmen had poured a libation 
together. 



32 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



CHAPTER X. 



• This examp/e was shewed to teache vs howe the 
teachers of God's Worde should not grutche to de- 
scend from their highnes or perfection, and abase 
thernselues euen to the lowlines of the weake, there- 
by to Wynne very many to theyr Lorde." — Udall. 

ARGUMENT. 

Anna's DweUing. — Anna. — The good Samaritan. — 
Anna's Story. — Anna's Apostrophe-, — The good 
Samaritan's holy Exercise. — Anna's Burial. 

" It is, indeed, horrible," remarked my 
ministerial-looking companion, as we pass- 
ed up street, on our return from the 

•visit to little Giovanna, " it is, indeed, hor- 
rible to find society so constituted that no- 
thing can be obtained without money." 

" Yet the evening's amusement was not 
dearly purchased," said I, supposing my 
companion alluded to the improvisation 
we had just witnessed. 

" It is not of the Italian girl that I am 
thinking," replied my companion. " The 
observation was suggested by the present 
condition of one to whom I am about to in- 
troduce you. Yes, this is the place ; she 
lives, or, rather, is dying here," he contin- 
ued, halting before one of those small, low, 
French-built houses of one story, which, 

in street, are usually habited by a 

class of females more sinned against than 
sinning. " Yes, this is the place ;" and he 
grasped my arm as if fearful I should leave 
him. " Now you will feel the force of my 
observation. It is, indeed, horrible to find 
society so constituted that nothing can be 
obtained without money ! Virtue may 
starve in the midst of a populous city ; want 
subdues honesty, and chastity immolates 
itself to supply the cravings of hunger! 
Come, come in ; you shall not hear, but see 
jny story. It is good to humble one's self 
before men." 

I followed my companion. 

A single candle burned upon the hearth, 
•throwing a dim ?-nd flickering light about 
a room which had been once, in the palmy 
days of its inmates — if any of the days of 
wretchedness may be said to be palmy — 
richly furnished. But sickness came, as 
it always will come ; disease in its most 
ioathsome form ; and the forced laugh, the 
•wild cry of riot, the seeming of hilarity 
were gone. How soon do even our co- 
•workers in iniquity discover the footsteps 
of misfortune ! No suiters came ; the week- 
ly bills of rent, for food, for the very wa- 
ter which cooled a feverish tongue, brook- 
ed no delay ; and tables, sofa, chairs, otto- 
mans, carpets, curtains, mirrors, pictures, 
•were sold, one after the other, until the 
room's emptiness looked chilling. The 
bloated bed of better days had not been 
spared, and upon a miserable pallet now 
lay the wreck of what had been the habita- 
tion of beauty, of refinement, of purity, and 



all maidenly virtue. How rapid is the race 
of vice ! How wonderful its alchemy ! 

" It is Anna," said my companion, in a 
low whisper, and pointing to the pallet. 

Upon a crazy trunk — Anna's initials 
were upon it ; it had known her in her 
childhood, had held her first wardrobe, ac- 
companied her in all her wanderings, and 
might have told many a tale of pride, of 
vanity, and of sorrow — sat a good Samari- 
tan, who daily called and endeavoured to 
smooth the poor girl's passage to the grave. 
In learning to cure the body, he had not 
forgotten the soul, and could pour words of 
hope into the ears of one who seemed flut- 
tering just above despair. 

My ministerial-looking companion ap- 
proached the pallet, dropped upon his 
knees, and sobbed aloud. It was the first 
intimation Anna had of our presence. 

" Ha ! are you there, devil !" she ex- 
claimed, in a shrill, yet hollow tone ; there 
was death in it. " Get up, get up, and look 
upon the work of two short years !" 

My ministerial-looking companion rose, 
and bending over the sick girl's pillow, 
muttered something which was to me in- 
audible. He faltered in his speech, his 
knees shook, his whole frame was violently 
agitated ; large, heavy drops rolled down his 
face : he was in prayer. " Father, forgive — " 

" Forgive ! never !" exclaimed Anna, in 
a quick, hurried cry, as if fearful lest the 
request might be granted before she could 
interpose an objection. " Forgive ! and 
shall you rise while I sink ! you, the sedu- 
cer ! No, no, no ; no, no, no." 

My companion again sank upon the floor, 
and covered his face with his hands. 

******* 

" Did you ever hear a woman curse 1 it 
is fiendish." 

" Forgive !" continued Anna ; " I cannot 
ask forgiveness ; yet I was innocent till you 
came. Ah, how sweet do the scenes of 
childhood rise up before me ! My old pa- 
rents ; poor, honourable : the neat farm- 
house ; the country church, with its hoary 
pastor : then I felt strong in virtue : O God, 
is it possible ! The aged saint was remo- 
ved from among us, and you took upon 
yourself his holy ofldce. ' Beware of wolves 
in sheep's clothing !' I should have pon- 
dered upon that text. You took upon 
yourself his holy office, and a look, a whis- 
per, and I fell. Yet you might have saved 
me, but would not. I was nothing ; you, 
all in all. And have I not concealed your 
guilt, traitor — traitor to Christ — as none 
but woman could have concealed it 1 When 
my time came, your name was never upon 
my lips. When my friends looked cold 
upon me, I did not murmur. When my 
aged father drove me as a contamination 
from his threshold, and my mother, who 
had borne for me the pains I was about to 
bear, turned from me as from a stranger. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



33 



I did not seek your roof, but wandered, 
without food, without shelter, day and 
night, through the open fields. Without 
money, without friends, the world would 
not pity my wants — go starve, strumpet! 
What could 1 do but what I have done 1 
O, curse, curse, curse upon the serpent that 
beguiled me."* 

My companion cast himself along the 
floor. He moaned aloud, " Guilty ! guilty ! 
before God and men."' 

The good Samaritan took a small vol- 
ume from his pocket, and ran his eye va- 
cantly over its spread page. Anna was 
silent from exhaustion ; the moan of my 
companion alone filled the room. 

" It is not for us to measure the wisdom 
or justice of the Creator ; neither shall our 
soft affections judge the stern decrees of 
Heaven," commenced the good Samaritan, 
" but Christ—" 

" Christ!" exclaimed Anna. 

The good Samaritan gave way to the 
interruption, and turned over the leaves of 
his book as if in search of a passage not 
readily to be found. 

" Christ ! purest of created beings ; with- 
out sin ; Son of God ! How mild in tem- 
per ! how meek in deportment ! how sub- 
lime in morals ! He taught without os- 
tentation ; he rebuked without severity ; 
h« cheered the penitent, he confirmed the 
good, and wept over the iniquity of those 
Avho hearkened not unto his doctrines. He 
did not anathematize the guilty, but with 
■words of love strove to win the sinner 
from his ways, and to save a soul of more 
value than the temporal wealth, the earth- 
ly pleasures it sought, and in seeking lost : 
lost wealth, lost pleasure, lost itself! The 
bruised reed he did not break, the smoking 
flax ho. did not quench, and the poor he 
had with him always. He loved the poor, 
and he loved the rich also ; he loved the 
just and the unjust, for all were his broth- 
ers, and he would have saved all. Did he 
sit among the wicked! it was to purge 
them from their wickedness. Did the 
weeping penitent of pleasure bathe his feet 
with her tears ? she went her way reform- 
ed, blessed with the forgiveness of her sins. 
How I love thee, briglit visitant of this be- 
nighted world ! Thou shalt be to me a fa- 
ther and a mother, a sister and a brother. 

* The lover of German literature will be remind- 
ed of one of its most truly natural and pathetic pages. 

"Wil. — Jenes Dorf, dessen Kirchthurmspitze Du 
hier von feine sichst, ist mein Getjurtsart. In jener 
Kirche ward ich getauft, in jener Kirche empfing ich 
die ersten Lehren unsers Glaubens. Meine Aeltern 
waren froname gute Bauersleule, arm und ehrlich," 
\i. s. V. — Das Kind der Liche : von August vou 
Kotzebue. — Erster Akte, Achle Scene. 

E 



At all hours I will think of thee : at the 
opening morn, at high noon, and at closing 
eve. 1 will contemplate thy character, I 
will love, I will adore. Thou shalt be my 
support in adversity, and should prosperity 
come — which may never come — thy calm 
influence shall temper the extravagance 
of success." 

Anna was silent. W^ho could have list- 
ened to the poor girl's words unmoved T 
The good Samaritan renewed his exami- 
nation of the small volume, which he had 
involuntarily closed, and held with his fore- 
finger gently inserted between its pages ; 
and observing that Anna, the ministerial- 
looking gentleman, and myself were mute 
with sorrow, he first attracted our atten- 
tion to the exercise he was about to per- 
form, and then read, with a voice sweetly 
modulated to the tone of deep depression 
mingled with high hope, the following ap- 
peal to the Lord of Hosts : 

" O most mighty God, and merciful Fa- 
ther, who hast compassion upon all men, 
and hatest nothing that thou hast made ; 
who wouldst not the death of a sinner, 
but that he should rather turn from his sin 
and be saved ; mercifully forgive us our 
trespasses ; receive and comfort us, who 
are grieved and wearied with the burden 
of our sins. Thy property is always to 
have mercy ; to thee only it appertaineth 
to forgive sins. Spare us, therefore, good 
Lord ; spare thy people • whom thou hast 
redeemed. Enter not into judgment with 
thy servants, who are vile earth and mis- 
erable sinners ; but so turn thine anger 
from us, who meekly acknowledge our 
vileness, and truly repent us of our faults, 
and so make haste to help us in this world, 
that we may ever live with thee in the 
world to come ; through Jesus Christ our 

Lord. Amen." 

**#*♦♦ 

On the second day subsequent to the 
events just related, the ministerial-looking 
gentleman, the good Samaritan, and my- 
self followed Anna to the grave. The 
good Samaritan performed the usual rites ; 
the ministerial-looking gentleman, clothed 
in habits of mourning, kneeled by the bier 
in silence. He had selected one of the 
many tenements for the dead of which the 
wall which surrounds the Protestant bury- 
ing-ground is composed, and Anna was 
lifted softly into that home which, to her, 
was indeed a home of rest. The good Sa- 
maritan is willing to go about doing good 
unknown. I left the ministerial-looking 
gentleman still kneeling by Anna's tomb, 
while the mason was busily at work clo- 
sing up its mouth. 



3i 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



DAY THE SECOND. 

" And every person of judgnnent, who loves a sincere relation of things, would be glad, if it were possible,, 
to have the writer of them abstracted from all kind of connexion with persons or things that are the subject 
matter ; to be of no country, no party ; clear of all passions ; independent in every light ; entirely uncon- 
cerned who is pleased or displeased with what he writes ; the servant only of reason and truth." — William 
Smith, D.D. 



CHAPTER XI. 



THE SABBATH. 



" Those Sabbath bells I love to hear, 
Ringing merrily, loud and clear." 
" Aha ! are you there, you old Puritanical ! — 
'Ringing merrily,' eh? Why not ringing merrily 
and dancing merrily ? Is it not strange that there 
should be found, among the followers of every reli- 
gion, those who would draw the thick cloud of their 
own dark bigotry over the bright sun which God has 
placed in the heavens to enliven and fertilize the 
earth ?" — The Cavaliers. 

ARGUMENT. 
Sabbath Morning.— The Cathedral.— The good Sa- 
maritan's Discourse upon Religion. — La Belle 
Creole.— The Militia.— Pietro.— The Levee.— The 
Battle. — Little Giovanna. — The Young Huckster. 

It is the Sabbath ! A Sabbath in New 
Orleans ! here the noisiest day of the week 
— so full of strange contrasts, of lights and 
shadows, crossing and recrossing each 
other: of the grave and gay, saints and 
sinners, each engaged in his vocation — 
that he may well tremble for his art who 
attempts to fix it, living, upon canvass. It 
is not the Sabbath of New England — there 
all are church-going from habit. Neither 
is it the Sabbath of Italy — there, too, cus- 
tom has moulded the manners of the peo- 
ple, and mirth and laughter usher in and 
close the jubilee of the poor. But here 
there are no manners, no customs, no fix- 
ed habits ; all is unsettled, chaotic ; the el- 
ements of society, as parti-coloured as the 
rainbow, but waiting the passage of years 
to blend them into one harmonious whole. 

I was dreaming of poor Anna, whose 
spectre haunted me as if I had myself been 
the ministerial-looking gentleman who had 
wronged her past, forgiveness, when the 
roar of cannon dispelled the vision, and re- 
minded me of an appointment I had made to 
meet the good Samaritan at matins. And 
yet he is not a Catholic ; why should he 
have selected the Cathedral in preference 
to the market-house, when both are equal- 
ly well attended, and the last the more in- 
teresting of the two; A drum and fife, 
which suddenly struck up the lively nation- 
al air of "Yankee Doodle" just under my 
window, turned the current of my reflec- 
tions, and, leaping out of bed, I thrust my 
head into the open air, in search of the 
cause of so unseasonable a mustering of 
armed men in my immediate vicinity. 
Two lusty blacks, in full regimentals, 
were playing a duet to a solo audience of 
their own colour, while a casual passer-by 
bttstowed upon the group a grin of appro- 
bation. 



The gray streaks of morning were fast 
thickening in the east, when I sallied forth 
from my hotel, with a curiosity raised on 
tiptoe by so unusual a commencement of 
the first day of the week. The morning 
was delightful — the atmosphere clear and 
bracing ; yet, except a lady, whose hurried 
steps, followed hard by a female slave, be- 
spoke an amateur of mass or marketing, 
and a straggling citizen-soldier, whose 
martial propensities must have been rous- 
ed thus early into action by the same pleas- 
ing strains which had persuaded me from 
my couch, I met with no living soul during 
the whole of my walk from above Canal- 
street to the Cathedral. The Americans* 
sleep late, for they have a notion that the 
rising sun is the only sovereign protection 
against miasma,! and their morning slum- 
bers are not yet broken by the harsh cries 
of the venders of milk, fi;esh butter, and 
eggs, which scare the matin hours of a 
northern city. 

The Cathedral. Let not the reader, who 
has been accustomed to associate the most 
gorgeous of all the religions with archi- 
tectural excellence in its most imposing 
forms, expect to find here the lofty spire 
and growing dome, the fretted portal and. 
painted ceiling, the "long-sounding aisles," 

" Where awful arches make a noonday night. 
And the dim windows shed a solemn light." 

In this, the richest of all the Catholic dio- 
cesses in the United States, the church has 
no temple worthy of her ancient great- 
ness ; and the Cathedral, the boast of the 
city's Creole population, is the poorest 
patch-work of bastard orders which brick 
and mortar were ever made to assume. 
Its utter insignificance as a work of art 
would deprive it of all claim to notice, 
were it not that in the earlier and best 
points of New Orleans it occupies a posi- 
tion so prominent as to induce one to sup- 
pose the Orleanois had put their best foot 
foremost, and were willing to make the 
most of a doubtful ornament. Time, too, 
hallows all things, and the touch of his 
hand is more potent to beautify than the 
painter's pencil : he mellows the colour- 



* That portion of the population of New Orleans 
whose mother tongue is English, whether of native 
or foreign birth. 

t There is not in the whole range of science a 
greater bug-bear than this same miasma — a word 
borrowed from the Greek, for the purpose of conceal- 
ing the ignorance of D\ilncss. As applied to ati un- 
known cause, it signifies nothiiifj, and gives birth to 
a multitude of errors, by presupposing that to be tan- 
gible which is not known certainly to e.xist. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



3& 



ingf of Raphael, and sheds a grace over the 
monuments of Wren. The Cathedral's 
old age is honourable, and he who is curi- 
ous in such matters will be as well pleas- 
ed with the bare, dilapidated condition of 
its inner economy, as with its weather- 
beaten front, seamed with scars which 
mark the passage of years. 

I arrived before the hour ; the bell had 
not yet tolled to matins. But, with the 
Catholics, the house of God, like the king- 
dom of heaven, is always open to the poor 
in spirit ; and I found a side portal, leading 
to the altar, inviting every passer-by to en- 
ter freely and commune with his Maker. 
A small marble vase, filled with holy water, 
stood upon the right, just within the por- 
tal ; and as I never enter a church with- 
out conforming to its customs, I immersed 
the tips of my fingers in the fluid and 
made the sign of the cross. If there is any 
virtue in such things, I would wish to re- 
ceive the benefit of it ; if there is none, a 
little salt and water cannot be otherwise 
than harmless. The good Samaritan stood 
•beside a lady, who knelt in prayer, as if 
weighed down with sorrow ; he observed 
my devotion, and advanced to meet me. 

'"Chanty suffereth long and is kind,'" 
said he. "The great Church of Christ is 
divided into many families ; and it becomes 
a true disciple to conform to the honest 
prejudices of all his brethren. I worship 
as often before this altar as within the 
more Protestant walls raised by that sect 
in the reformed religion to which I belong : 
they are holy places, all. Yet I have re- 
quested you to meet me here, not for the 
purpose of compelling you to join in the 
ceremonies of a ritual which may be a 
stumbling-block to your faith, but that, as 
a stranger to our city, you might see it on 
every side — the darkest as the brightest. 
The house of mourning is more instructive 
than the house of joy ; but we should be- 
come familiar with both if we would learn 
truly to appreciate life. I have resided 
many years in this city, and have long 
since accumulated a large estate ; yet it is 
but a short time since I learned how to en- 
joy it, or discovered that the luxury of 
ameliorating the sufferings of the unfortu- 
nate was superior to the luxuries of the 
table and the wine-cup. I am, perhaps, 
too well known to justify feelings of false 
dehcacy on my part ; yet the lady whose 
side I have just left, and who still kneels, 
absorbed in prayer, is too young and too 
beautiful for me to follow where she will 
lead the way, unattended by a friend of ei- 
ther of the parties." 

The good Samaritan bowed respectfully 
as the officiating priest of morning passed 
us on his way to the altar, and, bending 
his knee before an image of the Virgin, he 
resumed his former position beside the fair 
woman, whose half-stifled sobs gave utter- 



ance to a grief which had other origin than 
her own venial sins. The matin bells now 
rung out the accustomed peal, and, roused 
from a short revery into which the good 
Samaritan's last words had thrown me, I 
found the Cathedral fast filling with sweet 
faces, subdued by the occasion and the 
place to the Madonna style of beauty. 
Fashion pervades everything in this artifi- 
cial world of ours ; and the fair descend- 
ants of the French colonists choose to 
attend mass before sunrise, and then, like 
the first Christians, return to their usual 
avocations. And when is woman more 
lovely than at this early hour, with all her 
native charms fresh from the couch — like 
Venus from the wave — and just enough of 
sleep hanging upon her eyelids to dull the 
brilliancy of the orbs which roll beneath 
into just harmony with the mellow light of 
opening day ! La Belle Frangaise ! How 
perfect her figure ; and then her walk ; 
grace and love combined in motion ! With 
what taste she wears her dress. Mind 
presides over the arrangement of every 
fold — the poetry of the toilet ! She makes 
use of no illegitimate means to captivate ' 
the heart. Her features are classic evew 
unto sameness, with, perhaps, a little more 
of embonpoint than would be found in a 
statue of Praxiteles. The general expres- 
sion of her face is rest. Her large black 
eyes are soft as the gazelle's ; neither pos- 
sessing the fire of the Spanish senorita, nor 
rolling like those of the mixed race I have 
already described, liquid with love. The 
dark tresses of her hair are carefully ar- 
ranged, and motionless as chiselled mar- 
ble. Of quiet manners, she neither seeks 
nor rejects attention ; wins without effort,, 
and wears without arrogance ; secure of a 
homage which is the more readily paid be- 
cause seemingly unsought. Her small 
hand and tapering fingers, her "little feet," 
which, in the exquisite verse of Suckling, 
" Beneath a petticoat, 

bike mice, steal in and out, 

As if they feared the light," 

and finely-turned ankle — if you catch a 
sight of it — complete the picture. She is 
irresistible, and even in church steals us 
from our devotions ; for while the good- 
Samaritan, and all about me, have been 
saying their prayers, I have stood, rapt 
in admiration, before La Belle Francaise^ 
and, instead of soberly repeating a "pater 
nosier," have unintentionally put to flight 
the object of my admiration by repeating- 
in an audible voice the following lines of 
the poor Elvira : 

" I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee, 
Thy image steals between my God and me ; 
Thy voice 1 seem in every hymn to hear, 
With every bead I drop too soft a tear. 
When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll. 
And swelling organs lift the ri.sing soul, 
The thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, 
Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight : 



36 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



In seas of flame my plunging soul is drowned. 
While altars blaze and angels tremble round." 

" That will do," whispered the good Sa- 
maritan, tapping me upon the shoulder, 
and meeting my stare with a smile ; " you 
appear absorbed iu thought ; let us walk 
awhile ; the lady, at whose command I am, 
desires an additional hour for the confes- 
sional." 

The good Samaritan, like all those who 
to a native benevolence of character have 
added a thorough knowledge of the world, 
was of a liberal mind, and therefore not 
disposed to quarrel with the customs of the 
people about him. 

" The Christian Sabbath," said he, as we 
passed down the aisle, " seems to have 
been instituted, in the early days of the 
Church, for the benefit of the working 
classes, whose limbs, wearied and cramped 
with six days of labour, need, not only rest, 
but the revivifying influence of out-door 
sports : they occupy a vacant mind, and fill 
the heart with laughter, the best physician 
for a sick body. We will visit the market ; 
it is best seen at this early hour ; and as 
we pass along the Levee, you will find it, 
if not as busy as upon tlie other days of 
the week, at least stirring with life in a 
more joyous form." 

The deep-toned notes of the organ had 
not yet died upon the ear, when our atten- 
tion was attracted by a well-dressed com- 
pany of " Native American" militia, which, 
preceded, followed, and hemmed in on 
every side by a motley collection of all 
colours, sexes, and conditions, marched 
hurriedly along to the old familiar tune 
which had so unceremoniously serenaded 
my bedchamber. Drum and fife were now 
more fortunate in their audience, and con- 
sequently played with a corresponding ad- 
dition of spirit. Bond and free were equal- 
ly happy, and danced, sang, shouted, poked 
each other under the ribs, and played at 
shuttlecock with their neighbour's heads, 
in the true equaii;,y of the Roman saturna- 
lia. This is the Sabbath of the slave. 

Though the " Place d' Amies" was as yet 
vacant, the venders of fruit were busy ar- 
ranging their wares in pyramidal forms 
along the iron railing which surrounds it. 
" That man's story is curious," said the 
good Samaritan, pointing to a greasy, over- 
grown merchant in the trade. " He has 
sold fruit, just where he now stands, for 
more than twenty years, and has grown 
both rich and learned, without desiring to 
change his condition iu life. His numer- 
ous customers of every clime induced him 
to masterall the languages of Europe ; and 
the character of the commodities in which 
he deals enticed him into botany. Once 
fairly in the world of knowledge, he found 
each path leading to another still more 
beautiful ; his love of travel grew with the 
space passed over, and he has gone on 



until there is not a sunny spot in literature 
or science with which he has not made 
himself familiar. And then he bears his 
acquirements with such meekness ! those 
of his trade about him will never suspect 
that he is other than one of themselves. I 
never pass him without i-aising my hat in 
homage of his worth ; and sometimes 
while away a pleasant hour in his company, 
eating oranges, and discussing the merits 
of the different schools in therapeutics, or 
threading the intricacies of the rival sys- 
tems of Linnaeus and .lussieu. Buena Mat- 
tina ; you are early at work, Pietro," con- 
tinued the good Samaritan, as we approach- 
ed the vender of fruit. " This attention to 
business is praiseworthy ; but we should 
give the first hour of this day to our great 
Benefactor, in acknowledgment of the 
many favours received at His hands." 

" I am within reach of the bells," replied 
Pietro, " and can send up a prayer here as 
well as elsewhere ; besides, the best prool 
of gratitude in the receiver is his enjoy- 
ment of the good things received ; so put 
two oranges in your pocket, one for your- 
self and another for your companion— they 
are best eaten with a rising sun — and come 
along with me. An enmity of some stand- 
ing has broken out afresh this morning, and 
bids fair to become epidemical among the 
?narchands* who sell between the two mar- 
kets. I have, indeed, exerted my influence, 
without success, for the restoration of 
peace ; but the mad-caps will listen to 
your voice, for they know it was never 
heard except upon the right side. So, beg- 
ging your pardon, doctor, let us hurry on ; 
I woi'ild not that a portion of our popula- 
tion usually so peaceable, and among whom 
I count myself, should loose caste through 
the foolish differences of two hot-heads." 

We crossed to the Levee. It was occu- 
pied by such Creoles of both sexes as love 
early walking, with now and then a quar- 
teroon sweeping majestically by. Little 
coteries of ,Tack Tars, in neat blue jackets 
and trousers, clothed its surface, taking 
observations of the rising sun, whose up- 
per limb was just clearing the horizon. 
All were alike indifferent to the hum of 
distant voices, which bespoke the usual 
"row upon the Levee." The market- 
house — which, as a public building, is un- 
worthy so large a city— was well stocked 
with all a gourmand delights to find in a 
second and third course ; and as we passed 
down its centre, many a bright eye flashed 
upon us, justifying the remark of one of 
my city friends, that the market of a morn- 
ing was not the last place to visit in search 
of beauty ; and proving that les belles Cre- 
oles are not unworthy of the reputation of 

* Hucksters, pedlers of small wares, venders of 
tape, pins, ribands, and fruit. They are of both sexes 
and colours, bond and free, and are divided into two 
classes, the sedentary and the peripatetic. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



37 



their great-grandmothers for superior ex- 
cellence in all that relates au menage de 
la maison. 

We now entered upon the scene of strife. 
What a hubbub ! Men, women, and chil- 
dren ; black, white, and mixed ; carts and 
go-carts, horses, mules, and asses — the last 
the more comprehensive genus — are jum- 
bled together in one glorious " hotchpotch," 
which word, my Lord Coke says, signifieth 
" a conimixion of divers things together." 
The greater number of the combatants ap- 
pear not to have a very distinct idea of the 
origin of the quarrel in which they are en- 
gaged ; and while with one hand they re- 
turn a blow received, they expose their 
wares with the other — following up each 
sacre with a complimentary observation 
upon the quality of the goods they wish to 
put off, clothed alternately in each of the 
five languages of the city. 

" Take that, you old scoundrel," cried a 
fat dame of some sixty years, bestowing 
upon a youngster of fifteen a coup de pied 
par derniere, which quickened a sort of 
dog-trot into something more than a run. 
" Six bits, six escaliens ; only six bits ; tres 
fin, very good, bon ;" and she closed with 
thrusting into my face a pair of coarse 
AvooUen hose, which, as the weather is 
rather warm during the month of April in 
New Orleans, I declined purchasing. 

" Der teufel !" exclaimed a German ; 
" wie up-down mein show-case, and alles 
meine beauties gespielt !" and, by way of 
making sure of the offender, he dealt out 
a couple of blows to an ill-starred wight 
who stood near him in the act of trying on 
a shirt, in order to convince a chafferer 
that the article was large enough for a man 
of his size. The first stroke threw the poor 
fellow off his perpendicular, but the second 
brought him up again, so that he could not 
well complain, and finally concluded to let 
the matter pass as a joke. " Vill he puy a 
razors sin paby fur die kleins kinder 1" 
continued the German ; " Ein thaler vun 
dollar sallein, huit arcalin, une piastre, pour 
les de — " a stray projectile meted out poeti- 
cal justice, and stretched the huckster 
senseless among his wares. 

" Stop thief ! Arretez le voleur !• Sacre 
nom de Dieu ! le cochin !" cried a black 
wench, who sold potatoes, with sausages to 
match, served up warm ; while a sly rogue, 
who, in a moment of forgetfulness, had 
helped himself, made headway for the 
thii kest of tiie crowd. He was a disciple 
of Zimmerman, and loved solitude ; but the 
fates overtook him. The rogue, in his 
haste to put tlie spoils he had won extra 
postliminium, had not counted upon their 
artificial heat, and the consequence was no 
less injurious to himself than were his an- 
tics diverting to the sable dame, who saw 
her right thus summarily avenged. 

" My eyes !"— " Foutre !"— " Who bids V 



I " Schwanhund, trois scalins !" — " Give it to 
j him !"— " Schurke !"— " Only a dollar !"— 
" Good fit !"— " Salope !"— " Bloody old vil- 
lain !" — " Real habeneros, two for a pica- 
yune !" — " Whiz !" — and thus they have it, 
pellmell, the moving mass swayed to and 
fro, while Jack and his messmate, mount- 
ed upon the rigging of the neighbouring 
shipping, overlooked the field, and cheered 
on the combatants, well pleased to see 
their old friends, who had often squared 
their accounts with a night's lodging be- 
tween two gens-d''armes, fitting themselves 
for a similar enjoyment. 

The good Samaritan stood calmly con- 
templating the scene before him, seemmgly 
waiting for one of those lulls which serve 
as resting-places to the tempest, and pre- 
pare it for new efl^"orts of violence. He 
soon caught the eye of one of the most 
sturdy and active among the combatants, 
and the lion cowered into the lamb. 

" Make way ! make way for the govern- 
or ; God bless your soul, doctor, it does 
my eyes good to see you. The Tower of 
Babel has here a representative for ever}'' 
tongue ; and they are belabouring each 
other for want of an interpreter : and then 
it is all about a silly woman !" 

The good Samaritan moved forward, 
and, uncovering his head, bowed alternate- 
ly from side to side as he passed through 
the crowd, which opened to admit him into 
its centre. 

" Conspexere, silent, arrectisque ; auribus astant ; 
Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet." 

His mild voice fell like oil upon the 
troubled waves, and of all the angry multi- 
tude which stood thick around him not one 
was found who did not acknowledge the 
good man's influence. Finding that the 
fruiterer had not over estimated the moral 
power of my companion, I ventured to 
force myself within the circle which had 
closed about him, for the purpose of learn- 
ing what could have excited to such a 
pitch the passions of a class of people who 
usually err on the side of blandness, and, 
from long practice in the art of putting off 
bad wares at high prices, exhibit more of 
the Jew than of the Irishman in their char- 
acter. 

The Little Giovanna stood quietly in the 
midst, her eyes bent modestly upon the 
ground, and, judging from the roseate hue 
which mounted even to her temples, rather 
ill at ease as the cynosure of so numerous 
a company. Like Helen, she had waked 
a storm which no spell of hers could quell. 
Near her stood one of those awkward, ill- 
shapcn, antiquated market-carts used ex- 
clusively by the Islenos — a portion of hu- 
manity with whom the reader will be 
pleased to be made acquainted hereafter. 
Attached to the vehicle were a yoke of 
bony oxen, ruminating upon past events, 



38 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



and exhibiting all that soberness of char- 
acter so typical of the Evangelist. 

The Little Giovanna, now tricked out in 
far different habiliments than when I first 
saw her upon a former occasion, had been 
accustomed to visit the populous area be- 
tween the two markets at an early hour on 
the morning of the first day of the week, 
for the purpose of exposing to envious eyes 
the finery with which the exercise of her 
gift enabled her to deck her person. On 
this occasion an admirer, distinguished 
among the Islenos for his wealth, with 
great gallantry requested the fair impro- 
visatrice to mount his cart, and, after the 
manner of the earlier Thespians, favour 
his wondering countrymen with a speci- 
anen of her art. The little Giovanna un- 
fortunately yielded to the youth's soft per- 
suasions ; nothing loath to ensure a vic- 
tory which, with a woman's penetration, 
she perceived was already more than half 
■won. 

And there she stood ; her flowing tresses 
not now neglected, but nicely bound in 
parti-coloured ribands, and twisted into a 
5cnot behind. Her dress was neat and be- 
coming, dashed with a little of coquetiy 
about the waist and neck. Her complex- 
ion, too, now discovered its tints unob- 
scured, clear and sunny as an Italian sky ; 
but her eyes, thank Heaven, were un- 
changed. The song commenced. The rich 
Islenos and his friends smiled, then shouted, 
then stood entranced ; while Giovanna, like 
her own native "Rusignuolo," poured forth 
music which thrilled the soul. As her 
Toice rose upon the morning air, then died 
away in all the ecstasy of the passion she 
■described and felt, the trial was too much 
for one who had long hoped, but feared to 
tell his love. 

A young vender of petty finery upon the 
Levee, who carried his little show-box 
strapped about his neck, with so unobtru- 
sive an air as to have gained many friends, 
even among those of his own craft, had, in 
an unlucky hour, listened to the fair Pytho- 
ness in one of her happiest modes of inspi- 
ration ; and what could he do but love ! 
Once the merriest of the marchands, he 
became moody, lost in thought, forgetful 
of the passers-by, and retired at eve with 
his case of wares unsold. The world went 
badly with him; his friends fell off; his 
small stock of wealth, unreplenished, 
wasted away. He became negligent, un- 
cleanly, even in his habits ; his neat jacket 
and trousers fell into rags, and those who 
had known him in better days said he was 
crazed. In return for all this loss, a rich 
return to him, he was accustomed to steal 
of a Sunday morning into some obscure 
stall near the market, and watch the little 
Giovanna as she fluttered by with mincing 
steps, conscious of her worth. That morn- 
ing he was observed gliding to his post but 



a few moments before Giovanna made her 
appearance, seemingly labouring under 
some late cause of excitement. He ges- 
ticulated violently, and muttered to himself, 
while his eye wandered as if in search of 
some object on which to fasten its hate. 
A kind old lady, who sold essences and 
peppermint drops, interspersed with moral 
instructions in verse for the instruction 
of youth of both sexes, and to whom I am 
indebted for the whole story of the young 
man's love, suggested, with a sigh, the pos- 
sibility of his having summoned up suffi- 
cient courage that morning to waylay Gi- 
ovanna as she left her father's house, for 
the purpose of making an unrequited dec- 
laration of his love. Be that as it may, the 
young marchand was seen to tear his hair 
with rage when Giovanna, acceding to the 
Islenos' gallant proposal, leaped fawn-like 
from the ground, and stood erect in the 
centre of his queer vehicle, a vision just 
lighted from above. As the song progress- 
ed, and the afflatus grew stronger upon his 
heart's choice, the tortures of jealousy, be- 
came insupportable, and, rushing from his 
hiding-place, he fell, like the maniac of the 
tombs, upon all indiscriminately. The 
Islenos were men of metal, and resented so 
unlooked-for an intrusion upon their pleas- 
ures. The marchands were unwilling to 
stand by and see one of their own number 
drubbed, however deservedly, and thus the 
melee became general. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE LADY IN TEARS. 

" Oh, thou hast touch'd upon a dreadful ill, 
Forever open to the light of heav'n, 
Inexpiable, monstrous, from the mind 
Never to be effaced, our mournful lot." 

Sophocles. 
" Her eies full swollen with flowing streams aflote, 
Were with her lookes throwne up full piteously, 
Here forcelesse handes together oft she smote, 
With doleful shrieks that echoed in the skye." 
Mirror for Magistrates. 

ARGUMENT. 

Grief. — The Brother's Story. — The Prison. — The 

Interview. 

The good Samaritan and myself return- 
ed to the Cathedral. The lady in tears had 
just left the confessional, and joined us at 
the portal. 

" I am ready," said she, addressing the 
good Samaritan, " and may God support 
me in this hour of trial I" The good Sa- 
maritan would have said amen ; but, al- 
though his lips moved, he made no audible 
reply. The lady thanked me when the 
good Samaritan informed her that I was 
one of his friends, who would also accom- 
pany and sustain her in the difficult duty 
she was about to perform. Her large blue 
eyes were turned searchingly upon me, 
as if to inquire whether I was equal to the 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



39 



task, and then were again suffused in tears. 
■"Does he know alll" she asked, sobbing 
aloud. " Oh, my brother ! and must he die 1 
is there no escape? Good God, that I 
should have lived to see this day ! Oh, 
that I might lay down my life a ransom for 
his ; how sweet would be the refuge of the 
grave ! Peace, peace ; be still — I shall go 
mad !" and she wrung her hands in the 
extremity of grief. Her moans attracted 
the attention of the passers-by ; she saw it, 
and with an effort repressed the passion 
which seemed ready to deprive her of 
reason. 

" Forgive this forgetfulness," said she ; 
" yes, I know you will forgive me, for you 
know the terrible affliction which has over- 
taken me. My brain is racked with doubt. 
I resolve, then waver in my resolutions. 
1 know not whether it is a crime or a vir- 
tue ; yet, it was a virtue once — and has 
Christianity wrought a change in the char- 
acter of the act, or in the opinions of men ? 
' This day shall thou be with me in Para- 
dise.' Christ said it to the thief upon the 
cross ; and will he not say it to one who 
i-s less a criminal, though a greater in 
crime!" Her voice became husky — her 
words choked in the utterance — she walk- 
ed forward, making a sign for us to follow ; 
but her steps were uncertain, and she 
"would have fallen, had not the good Sa- 
maritan hastened to her support. He drew 
her arm gently within his, and they walked 
on in silence together. It is good to be 
made acquainted with grief — it wins the 
soul from the grosser things of this world. 
But what are the ordinary ills of life, that 
"we should bewail them 1 How do they 
dwindle in comparison with the magnitude 
•of the evil which Heaven, in its providence, 
poured upon the head of one so young, so 
beautiful, so capable of the refined enjoy- 
ments of the domestic circle ! My heart 
sank within me as I contemplated the men- 
tal agony of the mourner, forced into harsh 
contrast with the piercing fife, and rattling 
drum, and wild laugh, and coarse jest, which 
now filled the air, as squad after squad of 
-citizen soldiers, on foot and on horse, pass- 
ed in front of the Cathedral, and filed off 
into the Place d'Armes upon our left — yes, 
the good Samaritan had told me all. 

A young man, a resident of the country, 
liberally educated, of extensive connex- 
ions, and fair prospects in life, had visited 
New Orleans a few months previous for 
the purpose of passing a week with his 
city friends. At a dinner given by an ac- 
quaintance, the guests found each other's 
company too agreeable to separate at an 
early hour, and the wine-cup circulated too 
freely to suffer them to do so in a sober 
mood. Light with wine, merry, boister- 
ous, they sallied forth in quest of adven- 
tures ; and many a watchman sprang his 
rattle as the revellers swept, with shout 



and song, through the most populous 
streets of the city. The night was well 
advanced, when, weary and fleeing before 
the guardians of the city, they entered a 
drinking-house, an evil which, in New Or- 
leans, is to be found at every corner. An 
affray was the consequence. The manner 
and cause of its commencement, by whom 
instigated, all were too inebriated to ex- 
plain. It closed with the death of one of 
the servants of the establishment, who was 
struck down by the young man from the 
country. The guilty youth was arrested, 
arraigned, tried, condemned, and adjudged 
to suffer the last penalty of the law. His 
widowed mother and a sister — she who 
leaned upon the good Samaritan's arm — 
hastened to the city when the story of the 
son's misfortune burst upon their ears, 
which listened only for his voice telling of 
a happy return. The mother came stupi- 
fied with grief; the evil was too great for 
her to bear. She would sit for hours ga- 
zing upon vacancy ; then wonder what 
could have brought one of her years to 
town, for her days of vanity had passed 
away ; and then, when memory returned, 
and the reality of the dreadful calamity 
forced itself upon her, she would burst 
forth into the wildest wo, calling upon 
death. And what had this poor old wom- 
an done, that she should be thus visited 
upon the very brink of the grave 1 Why 
should not the sun of her existence, just 
sinking beneath the horizon, be suffered to 
go down undimmed by a cloud! And is 
the policy of that people who visit the 
crimes of the child upon the head of the 
parent founded in the eternal principles of 
justice ? The ways of Providence are, in- 
deed, past finding out ! But the sister, she 
had youth, and youth is ever accompanied 
by Hope. Up to that day her courage 
never wavered. Though the body wasted 
away, became weak and sometimes failed, 
the soul within nerved itself against the 
assaults of fate, and grew stronger in the 
contest. Her voice was often heard in the 
still hours of night at her mother's bedside, 
in prayer, soothing her sorrows ; but never 
in empty lamentation. She ministered 
daily to her brother in prison — put to flight 
his fears — pictured safety in the future — 
sat at his side in the court-room — searched 
the countenances of the jury ; and as wit- 
ness came forward after witness, whose 
every word heaped proof upon proof which 
fastened the dead man's blood upon her 
brother, she probed the testimony, and 
searched for innocence where, alas! no- 
thing was to be found but guilt. The bat- 
tle was for life, and she was equal to it. 
The evidence closed — the argument of 
counsel was heard — the judge delivered his 
charge — the jury left the box, and retired ; 
as the last retreating form passed from the 
view, all eyes turned upon the prisoner — 



40 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



npon the brother and the sister : there they 
sat, side and side. His countenance chan- 
ged — his head fell and rested upon his 
breast. How much of life was crowded 
into those few moments of expectation ! 
It was too much for him to bear. Not so 
the sister. Her face still beamed with 
hope — she seemed an angel, with a mes- 
sage of mercy to fallen man. The crowd- 
ed court-room was still as the chamber of 
death. Many a tear flowed, but her eyes 
were undimmed. Many a half-stifled sob 
was heard, but it was not her breast which 
heaved. The ticking of the clock upon 
the wall became painfully distinct, and sec- 
onds were lengthened into minutes, as 
each one counted the passage of time. 
The jury returned ; twelve honest men 
drawn from the body of the people. " Jury, 
look upon the prisoner. Prisoner, look 
upon the jury. What is your verdict V 
The prisoner rose, and leaned over the 
dock towards the foreman. How fearful 
were the changing passions which chased 
each other over his face ! " Guilty." The 
blood, which had mounted to the brain, 
rushed back upon the heart, and the pris- 
oner fell heavily and senseless at his sis- 
ter's feet. 

There was yet a power greater than the 
court — able to save. The sister embraced 
the knees of the executive ; she literally 
bathed his feet with her tears. She asked 
for mercy, and was told that the law must 
take its course. Then it was that hope 
took a last farewell; and the woman, half 
unsexed, assumed a sternness of character 
which sat strangely upon one of a make 
so delicate. Her tears dried up in their 
sources, and from that hour to the morning 
of the Sabbath when I first met her at the 
Cathedral was never seen to weep, never 
heard to complain. Her days she gave to 
her brother in prison, preparing him for his 
approaching passage from this world to the 
next ; and her nights she passed with her 
mother in prayer. She was then to visit 
that brother for the last time — the morrow 
was appointed for his execution. 

We stood before the prison door — a long, 
low, dingy-looking building, upon the same 
square with the Cathedral, but fronting on 
a cross street. It was built of brick, of the 
same order of architecture, and apparently 
of the same date with the church. Many 
a queer story is told of its first uses, when 
the priest, under the Spanish regime, was 
more powerful than the civic authority ; 
yet it has probably always filled the same 
office, since a similar building, which flanks 
the Cathedral on the opposite side, is occu- 
pied by the courts of justice ; so that Ihw, 
religion, and crime, the judge, the priest, 
and the criminal, are here, in their dwell- 
ings, made to typify that close juxtaposi- 
tion which is known to exist in society. 

The old gray-headed turnkey bowed re- 



spectfully, and, used as he was to sucti 
scenes, a shade of sorrow settled upon his 
countenance as he recognised a face which 
had so often presented itself before his gra- 
ted portal. He even endeavoured to throw 
something of kindness into his manner of 
turning back the rusty bolts, and swing- 
ing open the iron door which closed the 
entrance. 

We passed through a narrow, damp pas- 
sage-way to a small cell upon the ground 
floor. The old turnkey hobbled after us 
and drew the bolts, although it was the of- 
fice of another, for he said he loved to wait 
upon the lady. The door swung heavily 
back, and we stood in the presence of the 
condemned. There he sat, upon a pallet 
of straw, in the centre of the cell, gyved, 
manacled, and chained to its stony floon 
His head was bowed down and rested upon 
his knees, which were drawn up so as to 
serve for its support. How changed from 
the youth of eighteen summers ! A few 
short months of mental torture had already 
impressed upon his vigorous frame many 
of the marks of age. A pitcher of water 
and a loaf of stale bread, his daily allow- 
ance, remained untouched. What a mock- 
ery ! Do hunger and thirst follow us intof 
the grave ! 

The lady withdrew from the good Sa- 
maritan, and beckoning the old jailer to her 
side, whispered with him apart ; he nodded 
assent, and left the cell. The good Samar- 
itan and myself would have followed, but 
she arrested our steps, and, as the door 
closed upon us, pointed to a small, narrow- 
aperture which opened into the passage^ 
and was designed for the purpose of ena- 
bling the sentinel to watch, unobserved, the- 
movements of the prisoner within. We- 
placed ourselves before it. The lady ad- 
vanced, and stood before her brother. He 
moved not, unconscious of her presence.. 
Where were his thoughts — in this worlds 
or in the next 1 How much was to be left 
— the whole of this busy life, its evil ani 
its good, its joys and its sorrows, crowded- 
into a few brief hours ! How much was- 
to be entered upon — the mighty hereafter^ 
vague, uncertain, terrible, also crowding 
in, and claiming a divided empire over 
thought ! The sister stood— also motion- 
less—and looked down upon her brother 
with the cold, still, fixed face of death-de- 
spair copied in marble. It was a fearful- 
sight ; yet I gazed till her features grew 
rigid to my imagination, shadowing forth 
some stern resolve of the mind within. 
" George ?" The condemned sprang to his- 
feet. "My sister!" She clasped him ia 
her arms — hung upon his neck— glued her 
lips to his — their hearts were in their 
mouths, and choked the sobs which might 
have given a relief to grief. The good 
Samaritan turned to the wall. 

" And I heard a great voice out of heav^ 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



41 



en, saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God 
is with men, and he will dwell with t1iem, 
and they shall be his people, and God him- 
self shall be with them, and be their God. 
And God shall wipe away all tears from 
their eyes ; and there shall be no more 
death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither 
shall there be any more pain ; for the for- 
mer things are passed away." 

" George," said the lady, tearing herself 
from her brother, and resuming her former 
self-possession, "you have endured much. 
Those sunken cheeks and that wrinkled 
brow should have come with the flight of 
years ; but sorrow changes more rapidly 
than time. You have suffered much ; but 
there is one last shame which you must 
not suffer. For yourself, fo-r me, for the 
mother who travailed with you in pain, be 
equal to the occasion. George, it is fin- 
ished ; we part to meet no more. Have 
you praye4 ?" 

George raised his manacled hands. 
" May God forgive me, and have mercy 
upon my soul." 

" Amen," responded the sister ; and ta- 
king a small dirk from her bosom, she in- 
serted the hilt between the iron and his 
wrist, with its point turned towards his 
breast. 

" Hold !" 

The condemned extended his arms to 
their full length, then drawing them quick- 
ly back, he buried the blade in his heart, 
and fell without a groan. 

The good Samaritan bent over the poor 
youth, drew the weapon from his body, 
felt his pulse, turned aside, and wept like 
a child. 

I called to the keepers without ; the old 
turnkey and his assistants rushed in ; it 
was too late : their office with the prisoner 
was at an end. 

But the sister] She stood, as before, 
looking down upon her brother. 

The old turnkey approached, and began, 
in a querulous tone, to complain of the de- 
ception she had practised upon him. She 
put him gently aside. The good Samari- 
tan offered his arm to conduct her out of 
the prison. She raised her large blue eyes, 
and scanned his face as if it had been that 
of a stranger. 

" My God ! she has lost her reason !" ex- 
claimed the good Samaritan. 

" Hist ! my brother sleeps," said the 
lady ; " do not wake him. He has return- 
ed from a long journey. How sweetly he 
rests ; yet how changed ! When he left 
us, that form, now so emaciated, glowed 
with health ; but he shall leave us no 
more." And she knelt down by her broth- 
er's body, and kissed his forehead, and 
smoothed back his hair, and whispered soft 
words of endearment in his ear. " He will 
dream of me," said she, " and will know 
that I am with him." 
F 



That was the last that I saw of the lady 
in tears. She was led out a maniac from 
the cell, and died a few weeks after, raving 
of her brother. A sister's love, who can 
define it ! Less selfish than a mother, 
more pure than a wife, she possesses the 
warmth and devotedness of both. She has 
the softness without the grossness which 
springs from the distinction of the sexes, 
and is like the spirits of Heaven, where 
there is neither marriage nor giving in. 
marriage. 



CHAPTER XHf. 

THE CEMETERY. 

" Let every one, physician or not, freely declare- 
his sentiments about it ; let him assign any credible 
account of its rise, or the cause strong enough, in his 
opinion, to induce so terrible a scene. 1 shall only 
relate what it actually was ; and as, from an infor- 
mation in all its symptoms, none may be quite at a 
loss about it, if ever it should happen again, I shall 
give an exact detail of them ; having been sick of 
it myself, and seen many others afflicted with it." — 
Thucydides. 

ARGUMENT. 

The Sabbath in New Orleans. — A Festival for the 
Poor. — The Cemeteries of New Orleans. — Meet 
the Biographer of the respectable-looking old Gen- 
tleman. — Epitaphs. — Yellow Fever. — Contrast be- 
tween January and September in New Orleans. — 
New Orleans visited with Yellow Fever. — Its Ap- 
proach, Attack, and Possession. — The readiness ' 
with which its Ravages are forgotten. — Solomon. 
Moses. 

The good Samaritan and myself parted 
at the prison door. We both desired to be 
alone. He sought his closet ; for such 
events, as he afterward told me, induced 
feelings which could be relieved only by 
prayer. I turned to the crowded thorough- 
fares of the city, and strove to dissipate- 
among the light of heart the gloom which' 
oppressed me. The Levee was active- 
with life. The merchant was there, en- 
gaged in his usual pursuits ; and the man 
of pleasure, whiling away a vacant hour.. 
But the merry laugh, the buying and sell- 
ing, the parade of dress, the vacant stare 
of idle curiosity, the sober, anxious look 
of business, the rattling of drays, the song- 
of the negro at his never-ending task, all 
ill accorded with my feelings, and I sought 
another quarter of the city. 

New Orleans cannot be said to " groan 
beneath the weight of churches." With a 
resident population of more than one hun- 
dred thousand, one half of which is of the 
reformed religion, it possesses but eight 
Protestant houses of worship. These 
ought to be well filled ; yet one is closed 
for want of patronage, another — the Epis- 
copal — is but thinly attended, and a third 
is the private property of a wealthy Jew, 
who, with a liberahiy never looked for 
among those of his tribe, has bestowed the 
usufruct of hi.s tomple upon the nitural 
enemies of his faith. Such facts justify, ta 



42 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



the casual observer, opinions unfavourable 
to the morals of the city ; but their causes 
lie deeper than the surface, and spring 
from the peculiar structure of its society. 
The Sabbath, throughout much the largest 
portion of Christendom, is regarded more 
as a festival than as a day for severe reli- 
gious discipline, strict quietude, and formal 
manners ; and it may be doubted whether 
that change in the mode of its observance, 
which was first introduced by the Puritans 
of England, has been favourable to virtue. 
The earlier Christians appear in no way to 
have distinguished the firstday of the week 
from the five which immediately follow it, 
excepting as being that upon which their 
great Master rose from the dead. A con- 
vert to Christianity was then necessarily 
also a convert to Judaism, for one is based 
«pon the other ; and if we take away the 
Prophets, the Evangelists fall to the ground. 
But as the new religion extended itself and 
acquired strength, the first day of the week 
naturally grew in favour, while the seventh 
dwindled in consideration until it wholly 
lost its pre-eminence. The great Church, 
called the Catholic, whose history is so 
full of wonders that we should deem it 
fabulous, did we not know the machinery 
"with which it wrought — means equal to its 
ends — soon learned to turn to its own ad- 
vantage the respect felt for a day distin- 
guished by an event so important as the 
first resurrection ; and with an admirable 
policy, which consulted at one and the 
same time its temporal and its spiritual 
interests, it gave a festival to the believer 
and a holyday to the poor. The poor, 
wearied with six days of labour, need rec- 
reation as well as rest ; and a compara- 
tive view of the statistics of crime proves 
mirth to be a better guardian of morals 
than the ascetic institutions of Protestant- 
ism. The earlier settlers of Louisiana 
brought with them the liberal opinions of 
Catholic Europe, and, whether right or 
wrong, those who have come after them, 
from whatever quarter of the globe and of 
-whatever sect, have deemed it wise to 
adopt the sentiments and the manners of 
their predecessors. If, then, there is less 
of church-going in New Orleans than in 
any other city of equal magnitude in the 
United States; if hilarity and lightness of 
heart take precedence of soberness and 
sectarian severity, the diversity ari«es, not 
out of any inferiority in virtue, or lack of 
those moral qualities which render man 
acceptable in the eyes of his Creator, but 
from a difference of education, and conse- 
quent philosophic view of religion and its 
institutions. It would be diflicult to choose 
between the comparative excellences of 
the Sabbath in New England and the Sab- 
bath in New Orleans : both are fitted for the 
people by whom they have been respective- 
ly moulded and made to assume their sev- 



eral characteristics, and both possess an 
admirable moral influence. If the New- 
Englarideris more strict in forms, and hedg- 
es himself about with outer barriers against 
vice, the Orleanois gains in liberality — in 
that charity, without which ail else is but as 
sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. The 
wealthy Jew, spoken of above, is a fine 
illustration of the truth of my observations ; 
and. were additional proof necessary, I 
might refer to a well-known invitation 
proffered by a Protestant governor to a 
Hebrew friend, requesting his attendance 
at Te Deum. The Protestant and the Jew 
entered the Cathedral side and side, and 
were by no means among the least edified 
by the service. 

As I passed along the thoroughfares of 
the city I found them crowded with walk- 
ers, and children playing before every door. 
It was a beautiful sight ; and on the Sab- 
bath, too ! the innocent gambol^ of youth 
are a sweet hymn in praise of the benefi- 
cence of the Creator. 

I sought the homes of the dead. 

New Orleans has five cemeteries ; of 
these, the Catholic and two Protestant are 
unique in plan and method of interment. 
Each is enclosed with a brick wall of 
arched cavities, or ovens, as they are here 
called, made just large enough to admit a 
single coffin, and raised, tier upon tier, to 
a height of about twelve feet, with a thick- 
ness of ten. 

The whole enclosure is divided into 
plats, with gravel paths intersecting each 
other at right angles, and is densely cov- 
ered with tombs, built wholly above ground, 
and from one to three stories in height. 
This method of sepulture is adopted from 
necessity ; and burial under ground is nev- 
er attempted, excepting in '• the Potters' 
Field," where the stranger without friends, 
and the poor without money, find an un- 
certain rest, the water, with which the soil 
is always saturated, often forcing the cof- 
fin and its contents out of its narrow and 
shallow cell, to rot with no other covering 
than the arch of heaven.* 



* When burial beneath ground is impossible, sep- 
ulture above must, it would seem, be resorted to 
from necessity. But it may be questioned whether 
the effluvia necessarily arising from the decompo- 
sition of the dead of so large a city, more especially 
during the hot months, is not one great source of the 
fever that frequently scourges New Orleans, and is 
now the only obstacle to its assuming, at an early 
day, its natural position at the head of AmericaH 
cities. It were well for the Orleanois if long custom 
and the prejudices of education did not forbid a re- 
sort to the most ancient and reasonable mode of in- 
terment : I allude to the funeral-pyre and the urn. 
Interments within the limits of the city, at least, 
ought to be forbidden. In urbe sepelito, neve urito, 
says a law of the twelve tables ; and the fourth ar- 
ticle of a decree of the 23d Prairial, in the twelfth 
year of the French Republic, wisely prescribes that, 
aucune inhumation ne peut a voir lieu dans les 4gli- 
ses, temples, synagogues, hopitaux, chapelles pub- 
liques, et gene raliment dans aucun des edifices ferm6s 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



The cemetery in which I now stand 
looks as if modelled after a growing city. 
The tombs have an air of freshness about 
them which betrays their newness — no- 
thing seems of yesterday — the peculiarity 
of their structure, their close juxtaposi- 
tion filling the plats like blocks of build- 
ings, the weJl-gravelled paths between, the 
wall about the whole, with its numerous 
receptacles for the dead rising story above 
story, check the fancy, and almost per- 
suade the visiter to believe he stands in the 
midst of a panorama of what the great mart 
which feeds it is to be. Even the little 
slabs of black and while marble, affixed 
like door-plates to the mouths of the tombs, 
carved with the names of their occupants, 
giving dates of birth and death, help out 
tiie illusion — they were all so young, one 
can hardly believe them to be of the dead! 
Yet that fact tells a world of sorrow, and 
discourses more eloquently than could the 
most gifted tongue, of the true character 
of that city, which here finds its final rest- 
dng-place — its comparative newness, its 
advantages of trade, the great influx of as- 
piring youth, the periodical visit of the de- 
stroyer; the periodical passing away of 
thousands in the bloom of life, while more 
than thousands rush in to fill their places, 
again to pass away — again to be more 
than supplied by new adventurers : thus 
running a continual round ; a race after 
death, while New Orleans, unchecked, 
strides onward towards the goal of its des- 
tiny. Is man, with all his intellect, a play- 
thing in the hands of fate 1 Mephistophiles 
■would laugh till his sides cracked amid the 
tombs of the cemeteries of New Orleans. 

I sat myself down by a tomb newly 
raised, and I'ead the inscription : " Died of 
yellow fever, 17th Oct., A. L., a native of 
Hamburg, aged 28." 

" The dead speak to us more eloquently 
than the living," said one at my elbow. I 
turned, and recognised in the speaker my 
late-formed acquaintance, the biographer 
of the " respectable-looking old gentle- 
man," accompanied by his shadow, the doc- 
tor. 

" Those who are buried here do, in- 
<!leed, warn us of the shortness of life ; yet 
they speak to us of but one disease," said 
I, inviting the two friends to take a seat at 
my side. 

" Yellow fever — yes — ah, it makes the 
heart bleed to read these dates," said the 
doctor. " Life was with them, in truth, but 
a span, yet " how crowded with activity 
and hope — Hope! where is it? all buried 
here. Cast your eye along that wall ; of 
the hundreds who "now rest within it, not 
one saw fifty years ! They were all for- 
eign to the state ; and each came an ad- 



ou les citoyens de reunissent pour la celebration de 
leurs cultis, ne dans I'enceinle des villes et bourgs. 



venturer — a man of promise, freighted with 
the good wishes of friends, the prayers of 
relatives, and hoping — what? to amass 
wealth, return, and die, full of years, at the 
same hearth which knew their boyhood. 
The pestilence came ; the little marble 
plates tell you much, but they do not tell 
you all. The man dies ; but where are 
parents, brothers, sisters, wife, children, 
friends ? The blow which struck him down 
planted a thorn in their several breasts. 
The relations of society are more numer- 
ous than the nerves of the body, and are 
equally the recipients of pleasure and pain ; 
multiply their number by three thousand, 
and you will arrive at some estimate of 
the sorrow consequent upon one season of 
pestilence in New Orleans. Were you 
ever in the city during an epidemic V 

" Never." 

" Then you do not Icnow it. The pen- 
dulum vibrates equal segments on each side 
of its point of rest ; and our eight months 
of bustle, business, joy, fashion, and dissi- 
pation are followed by a season of corre- 
sponding quiet, stillness, death. A stranger 
passing down Chartres-street on a warm 
sunny day in the month of January would 
imagine that he had at last found the El 
Dorado of Francis Orellana, so happy looks 
every face, so crowded are its walks with 
the beauty of every clime. Houris from 
Paradise, decked with all that is rare and 
costly, shows on every side, the manners, 
dress, luxury of every people, crowded 
into one narrow street, with the polished, 
fastidious taste of France presiding over 
and harmonizing all. Walk through the 
same street on a hot, sultry day in Sep- 
tember. Where now are the crowds that 
blocked your path, the man of pleasure 
and of business, tlie beauty that demanded 
homage and received it, the costly stuffs, 
the roll of carriages, the busy shopman ; 
life as civilization has made it, as the con- 
gregating in cities has made it 1 A pesti- 
lence stalks through the city, and you start 
at the sound of your own footfall ! A soli- 
tary passenger hurries past, giving a wide 
berth lest contact might contaminate ; or 
if he speaks, it is only to inform you that 
the friend you parted with in health but 
yesterday, he saw huddled into his grave 
to-day. The shops are closed, for there 
are no buyers ; and a bit of black crape 
tacked to a panel of the door tells you that 
the destroyer has been within. All is sol- 
itude ; the solitude of the city, not of the 
forest. The deep forest ! there is a luxu- 
ry in its solitude; a returning to a stale 
of nature ; an independence of all beings 
save one ; a liberation from conventional 
restraints; the mind is at rest; the heart, 
the whole body dilates ; we become famil- 
iar with every stream; the trees know us, 
the wild flowers are our friends, and the 
green leaves seem like old acquaintances. 



44 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



We look in every sunny spot, and stretch 
ourselves beneath every shady copse ; we 
grow better and milder of spirit, so that 
even the little birds feel conscious of their 
security, and chirp and carol about as if to 
give a merry welcome to one who loves 
what they love, and enjoys what they en- 
joy. But the solitude of the city, the liv- 
ing, growing city, is terrible I The trav- 
eller who visits the seats of ancient great- 
ness, Thebes, or Tyre, or Babylon, finds 
but what he looks for. He peoples their 
deserted places with generations whose 
names are blotted out with the passage of 
centuries ; imagination rebuilds the gor- 
geous palaces which have crumbled be- 
neath the touch of time, and the busy hum 
6f multitudes rises up in their midst ; the 
prince, the slave, the proud soldier, the 
wealthy trafficker in barbaric commerce, 
each in his appropriate costume, are there, 
and he lives in an age of three thousand 
years ago. The spell breaks ; the picture 
which fancy limned passes away like va- 
pour, and the desert is again present to 
him; but it is not unpleasing: it does not 
depress, for it is natural. Nations, like 
men, have their old age, decay, and death. 
The places they occupied are full of poe- 
try ; to stand upon their grave is sublimity. 
Such are not the feelings of. one who finds 
silence where he expected noise, and vacu- 
ity where he looked for a crowd. I de- 
scribe what I have seen." 

" I fear," said I, " what you have said 
will not induce me to run the risk of accli- 
mation ; do, then, my dear doctor, tell me 
what yellow fever is. Is there no escape 1 
Must all pass the ordeal?" 

" Yes ; persons of every age, colour, and 
condition ; even Creoles of the state are 
not exempt from its attack. But do not 
ask what yellow fever is. See it, and you 
will know it, at least in its effects.* We 
of the profession define it, and no two 



* The common course of the fever is to commence, 
often without any preceding indisposition or premon- 
itory warning, with a chill, which lasts sometimes 
half an hour, usually less ; though sometimes it is 
absent. This chill is followed by high fever, with 
an intense superorbitar pain, apparently unconnect- 
ed with great disordered action of The brain, as 
the intellectual functions are generally unimpaired, 
though occasionally there is delirium ; a peculiar in- 
flamed, glossy appearance of the eye, easily recog- 
nised, but difTicult to describe, a strange compound 
of muddiness and lustre ; pulse 120'^ ; great thirst, 
and desire for cold drinks, with occasional vomiting ; 
pain and heat of stomach ; tongue white on surface, 
with red edges ; this generally continues, with more 
or less intensity, from twenty-four to forty-eight 
hours, when there is a remission of all the symp- 
toms, and the patient often feels very well. There 
is often an anxious expression of the countenance, 
and jactitation. This condition continues from twelve 
to twenty-four hours, depending very much upon the 
treatment ; if it recur, fever returns, with vomiting 
or delirium ; pain in the head ; often suppression of 
urine ; hoemorrhages ; extreme sensibility of stom- 
ach; black vomit; death. 



agree in the definition. Science ! Physic a 
science ! It may be in the books ; what is- 
it in practice ? utter darkness. We grope 
about like blind men, and find our way, if 
at all, by accident. Thucydides has de- 
scribed the plague at Athens ; Boccacio, 
the plague at Florence ; De Foe, the plague 
at London : read them, they are admirable ; 
and when the horrors they portray take a 
form and a reality — are around and about 
you — when you find yourself in their very 
midst, then do you stand in New Orleans 
contending with its scourge. Misery, when 
described, needs only to be added to ; its^ 
recital is less appalling than its reality. 
Look above you ; the air is clear, the sun 
goes down unobscured even by vapour. 
One would not look for pestilence in such 
an atmosphere ; yet the sky is as pure, the 
verdure as fresh, the breeze as tranquil, 
in our season of sickness ! All is decep- 
tion ; yo.u stand in the midst of dangers 
you know not of, and, with the soft air 
you breathe, inhale a poison destructive to 
life!" 

" And can there be happiness in the life 
you describe V said I. " A large city's 
population in health looking forward to the 
annual return of sickness ! A sickness 
which comes, not as it comes elsewhere, 
in various forms, scattered through all the- 
seasons, intermingled with health, a gradu- 
al march from the cradle to the grave, im- 
perceptible, and therefore unnoticed, but 
of one form, certain ; certain as the travel 
of the sun through its course ; universal,, 
striking down all. Such a life would be 
well bartered for a seat with Damocles at 
the banquet-table. I should sit, like Faus- 
tus, and count the hours, as they fled, till 
the destroyer came." 

" Is there anything more terrible than 
the certainty of death V said the doctor. 
" It is an evil we cannot escape ; it must 
pass upon us all! Yet you mingle with 
the busy throng of men, labour, get gain, 
riot in pleasure, laugh, grow fat, and die. 
Such is the constitution of man ; and it is 
wise. The thousands who yearly crowd 
our city to find a grave, are like the thou- 
sands who crowd the cities of the Levant, 
Constantinople, Alexandria, Cairo ; the 
cities of British India, Calcutta, Bombay : 
each hopes to live where he knows that 
another will die. Stay with us, and s^ec 
the change from health to sickness. As 
the hot months draw near, the city's dense 
population grows sparse, like the moon 
waning from her fulness. The visitants 
of a season, and the rich, who love life^ 
leave us. As the summer draws to its 
close, anxiety increases ; and our citizens 
congregate in the public places and at the 
corners of the streets, like the Athenians 
of old, inquiring after some new thing. 
' Has it come V ' Will it come V Rumours 
start up, are entertained, contradicted, and 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



45 



die away ; the city gradually sinks into a 
state of repose, and a feeling of security 
takes possession of all. Then it is that 
the pestilence strikes, like an armed war- 
rior in the midst of a sleeping camp ! A 
victim falls — the fearful fly, but fly too 
late One hurries on shipboard, with the 
vain hope of reaching a distant port ; an- 
other trusts to the power of steam to bear 
him beyond the reach of disease ; each 
yields to his fate midway his journey to 
a healthier clime. One mounts a noble 
steed, and the horse and his rider are seen 
flying as if from a battle-field ; fear sits at 
his back — death follows hard at his heels — 
safety in the distance — but, alas I that goal 
is never to be attained. Death bestrides a 
courser which knows not weariness, and 
the speed of the racer is vain. Another 
stands still, stupified with terror, and dies 
without an eftbrt made for self-preserva- 
tion. Another shuts himself up, resorts to 
a system of non-intercourse, enforces the 
laws of quarantine among his own house- 
hold, and dies of fright. The pestilence, 
which at first selected here and there a 
Tictim, as if to awaken a general terror by 
the suddenness and desultory method of 
its attack, now assumes a more regular 
mode of warfare, and passes through the 
city by sections ; slow and sure in its 
march, the door-posts of the acclimated 
are alone passed by. The city is hushed 
and quiet as the house of mourning ; si- 
lence reigns through all its streets, undis- 
turbed except by the rattle of the hearse 
and physician's gig ; even the Levee, that 
busy mart of the products of so many 
climes, is deserted, and presents to the 
eye a long, narrow strip of hot sand, un- 
obstructed by a single proof of the wealth 
which now covers its surface. New Or- 
leans is in the midst of an epidemic, and 
the young giant of the West stands shorn 
of his strength, feeble, tottering, wrestling 
with his enemy for existence !" 

" And within one short month all is for- 
gotten !" said L " Affliction, when passed, 
usually leaves the prints of its footsteps 
behind ; but one would look in vain for % 
trace of them about the streets of your 
city. Time ordinarily brings with him for- 
getfulness, but forgetfulness here antici- 
pates his coming." 

" We become blunted to sorrow," said 
the doctor ; " we see too much of it to per- 
mit ourselves to brood over its effects. We 
learn to forget from a principle of self-pres- 
ervation, and fly to Democrilus, lest Hera- 
clitus drive us mad. Were we to mourn, 
we should scarcely doff" the weeds of one 
season before we should be called to put 
on those of another. Use changes our na- 
tures most strangely ; yet there are scenes 
which cannot be forgotten. I wish it were 
otherwise, and the fabled Lethe a reality ; 
1 would suffer an immersion, were it only 



to blot out the memory of the poor wretch 
who lies there. Read the inscription. 

" 'S. M.'* 
" Yes, it is he — Solomon Moses. I was 
his physician ; the only patient over whose 
death-bed I have not wept. A physician, 
like a lawyer, takes a personal interest in 
his case ; and as he watches the progress 
of a disease through all its diff'erent stages 
to its crisis, when the principle of life, like 
the lambent flame, hovers upon a point, 
uncertain whether to part or not, the man 
subdues the profession, and something 
more than practical skill is concerned in 
the result. But his death was to me a re- 
lief ; and I would barter my doctorate in 
exchange for utter forgetfulness of that 
small portion of his life, perhaps not the 
saddest, with which I am acquainted. He 
died of the last epidemic. I will tell you 
his story. You may consider it fiction ; it 
will be the better way to brush it from your 
memory, should you find occasion. Solo- 
mon was a Jew, a Hamburg Jew. Do you 
not hate Jews ? I do. It is an acquired 
prejudice, of late date. I was born in New 
England, where a Jew is a natural curiosi- 
ty ; and, until I came to this city, was dis- 
posed to compassionate a race whose pres- 
ent condition is a miracle, more strongly 
evidencing the mission of Christ than the 
many he performed while a pilgrim upon 
earth. But here one comes in continual 
contact with these outcasts of heaven, and 
we soon learn that their moral, as their 
physical character, is little changed from 
what it was in the days of Pharaoh. Let 
me tell you a secret. Never trust a Jew 
until you know him to be a holder of real 
estate ; he cannot put that into his pocket." 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE Jew's story. 
" Note how, even with the point of a diamond, by 
what oblique steps and imaginable preparations the 
High Disposer sometimes contrives the secrets of his 
will." — Sir Henky Wotton. 
" Allmachtig ist doch das gold, 
Auch Moehren kanns bleichen." — Schiller. 

"Tu me demandes s'il y a des juifs en France. 

Sache que partout 6u il y a de I'argent 11 y a des 

juifs." — Montesquieu. 

ARGUMENT. 

Solomon flies Hamburg. — Arrives at Charleston. — 
Migrates to New Orleans. — The Doctor makes "his 
Acquaintance. — Solomon's Stock in Trade. — Sol- 
omon's Tale of his Brother. — Solomon's Criticism 
of Smollett's Count Fathom. — Solomon's Anxious 
Inquiries after the Yellow Fever. — Solomon's 
Speculation. — Solomon finds the Yellow Fever. — 
Solomon sells his first Coffin.— Solomon visits the 
Doctor at Night. — Solomon takes the Fever.— 
The Doctor's Practique.— Solomon's Death. 

" Solomon was compelled to leave Ham- 
burg, in consequence of being detected in 
an attempt to cheat the customs by intro- 

* Qui nunquam quievit, quiescit. — Tac. 



46 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ducing loaf-sugar within the city free of 
duty. He cut it into small pieces, and 
concealed the lumps in his mouth ; the 
loss by dissolution was more than com- 
pensated by the escape of the excise. He 
fled ; and, concealing himself on board an 
American aliip — it is a wonder she did not 
founder at sea — reached Charleston, South 
Carolina, in safety. The first person Sol- 
omon met, on landing, was a Jew ; and he 
used to say that the streets of that city so 
swarmed with those of his tribe that he 
was half inclined to believe himself not yet 
clear of the justice of Europe. Were you 
ever in Charleston 1 The people are hos- 
pitable, noble, generous ; but the city, now 
much fallen off from its former importance, 
is in a state of gradual decay, and may be 
best described as a town noted for the size 
of its private dwellings, the number of its 
negro population, its numerous private car- 
riages, its poverty, pride, and Jews — the 
last the greater evil of the catalogue. Was 
it ever supposed that that city was the ap- 
pointed gathering-place for the race T No 
other hypothesis- will account for the mul- 
titude we find there. However, the opin- 
ion, if ever entertained, has been rejected, 
for they are fast emigrating to every other 
section of our country, and the largest 
stream appears to have set in this direc- 
tion. Solomon was a man to scent pov- 
erty as far as a crow will scent carrion; 
and, soon taking leave of his newly-acqui- 
red friends, he made his appearance in this 

city in the spring of . It was on the 

twentieth of March of that year that I form- 
ed his acquaintance. The date is fixed in 
my memory, for he made a strong impres- 
sion at our first interview. I was strolling 
about the city in search of chambers, and 

entered the open hall of a house in 

street, to make inquiries. ' Come in !' 
said a shrill, piercing, pipe-like voice, in 
answer to my knock upon an inner door. 
I accepted the invitation. A little, thin, 
shrivelled-up ma.* of some fifty years — 
you know his features ; a Jew's face is a 
Jew's face all the world over ; pure blood 
theirs, unmixed since the days of Abra- 
ham — poorly clad in a dress made up of 
the odds and ends of a slop-shop, present- 
* ed himself before me. He bowed with 
fawning reverence, and hoped he might 
' 'ave de 'onour von do me vun leetle ser- 
vice.' I made known the occasion of my 
visit. 

" ' Vill de gintleman sit vun five minute !' 
said Solomon, handing me the only chair 
in his room ; ' I vill write his name on dis 
leetle paper!' and he drew a pencil from 
his pocket, and stood before me in the at- 
titude of an amanuensis, awaiting the 
words he was to inscribe. 

" ' Do you keep an intelligence office V 
I inquired. 

" ' Anyting, ev'ryting, for get monish !' 



said the little Jew, his small, dark, sunken- 
eyes twinkling in their sockets with the 
idea of adding to his scanty hoard. ' I 
hunt monish all my life ; dis vun goot chity 
— I look ev'ryvere — do anyting — fill all 
commissions, von cotton to ol' clo' — shave 
note — hire monish mit deposit, only fifty 
per cent, per monsh — find lost tog ; goot 
teal tog lost in dis chity — very poor; al- 
ways poor — vill you puy a vatch !' and 
Solomon drew from his breeches pocket 
an old time-keeper of Romilly's make. 
" I declined purchasing. 
" ' Puy anyting else — penknife, razor, pen, 
seal, finger-ring, breast-pin, fish-hook, tog- 
collar, shpper, tooth-pick, handkerchief, 
comb, soap, pomatum V continued the 
Jew, producing all the different articles 
enumerated, one by one, from about his 
person. It was astonishing how he could 
find stowage for so much, and yet look so 
attenuated. It was a secret he had learn- 
ed, as he afterward told me, in cheating 
the customs of Hamburg. Not at all dis- 
concerted by a second refusal, Solomon 
again renewed his attack upon my purse, 
by attempting to underlease me the cham- 
ber he occupied at an advance upon his 
own rent. 

" ' And what will you do with all this 
lumber, Mr. Moses T said I, looking around 
the apartment, which was more than half 
filled with the mixed stock in trade of all 
the different departments in business he 
aimed to fill. 

"'Plunder! plunder!' exclaimed Solo- 
mon, with the affrighted air of a rogue de- 
tected in his villany, ' I plunders nobody. 
Dis ish mein lawful gains — anyting you 
vants V and he commenced turning over 
and exhibiting the inner parts of heaps of 
rubbish which the poor of the city would 
have spurned to collect for comfort. Sol- 
omon, as he subsequently told me, was sur- 
prised to find, in looking about him in New 
Orleans, what he called an immense ex- 
travagance among the rich, and a corre- 
sponding blindness among the poor, and he 
at once resolved to profit by the oversight 
of both classes. He had, in Europe, known 
immense fortunes amassed by traffic in the 
scrapings of the streets of its cities ; and 
when he saw the sweepings of our stores 
waiting the public carts, when he walked 
upon the Levee, and saw its surface white 
with flocks of cotton which lay unheeded 
until trodden into the dust and mud, his 
heart beat with the bright hope of an old 
Spanish adventurer, when, amid the mount- 
ains of Peru, he discovered a virgin mine, 
which only needed working to ensure 
wealth. But Solomon looked upon the 
surface of things. He did not understand 
society as it exists in this new world of 
ours. Our population is not yet sufficient- 
ly dense, the rich are not yet rich enough, 
nor the poor poor enough to sustain that 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



47 



branch of the business of life which, Hke a 
mule, feeds upon the offal of all the others. 
Solomon's merchandise found no buyers, 
and often did he curse that newness of the 
country, that sparseness of its population, 
that facility of gaining a livelihood, which 
rendered his pursuits not only worthless, 
but a nuisance. I declined bargaining for 
any part or parcel of his gatherings ; but 
observing a richly-mounted fowling-piece 
standing in one corner of the room, inqui- 
red the price of it. 

" ' Vat, niein gun !' exclaimed Solomon ; 
' I no sell him, nein, not for vun tousand 
tollar. He save mein life.' 

" ' Then you have some fear of burglars, 
Mr. Moses,' said I, smiling at the idea of 
thieves pouncing upon such treasure. 

" ' Ich verstehe, I understand,' said Sol- 
omon ; ' leetle danger of tief mit such 
goots. But 'tis not for dat I love him ; 'tis 
for vun sarvice he do me in mein vater 
land ;' and the little Jew's eyes glowed 
with an expression of mingled revenge and 
satisfaction, and his swarthy features grew 
blacker, as his memory turned back to the 
event to which he alluded, and brought it 
in review before him. ' Harkee !' said he, 
approaching my side, and bringing his 
mouth close to my ear. ' Mein bruder, 
mein only bruder vould rob me, and I shot 
him!' 

- " ' Murdered your brother !' exclaimed I, 
starting from my seat. 

" ' Nein, nein, not murdered, not murder- 
ed — quite ; yet it vere veil to do it — rob vun 
of de tribe ! 'tis deash by de Talmut.' 

" Solomon, when in his palmy days at 
Hamburg, kept his money and most valued 
jewels in belts, which, during the day, he 
wore about his person, but at night depos- 
ited in a small iron box concealed behind 
a moveable wainscot near the head of his 
bed. His brother discovered the secret, 
and resolved to possess himself of the treas- 
ure. ' Dat,' said Solomon, ' vasli not vun 
eMsy ting for to do ; for I sleep mit vun eye 
open lookin' dis vay — d'ye see ]' and the 
Jew composed his features to a state of 
rest, closed his left eye, and imitated sleep ; 
the right, which was open, remained fixed 
and motionless. ' It is a false one,' said 
I ; he immediately reversed the experi- 
ment. It was an art which he had acqui- 
red after long practice and much suffering, 
and was resorted to as the only safeguard 
to one who lies down amid the starving 
thousands of a European city. Bolts and 
bars — what are they against the attempts 
of men whose wits are quickened by gnaw- 
ing hunger, or avarice, or a desire to ob- 
taui the means of slaking those artificial 
appetiles for pleasure which luxury first 
created, and long use made necessary. 
Straws — mere straws — worse than straws ; 
for tliey induce a false security. The 
brother knew of Solomon's acquired facul 



ty, and leaped upon him at midnight, with 
a drawn dagger in his hand. Solomon 
eluded his grasp, sprang from his bed, and 
fled to the opposite extremity of the room ; 
the brother pursued him. Solomon had 
that day purchased the gun I wished to 
bargain for of a young spendthrift, a lover 
of sporting ; it was the last wreck of his 
fortune. ' He vash starving,' said Solo- 
mon, ' and I gave him a ducat for it. De 
poy said it vash true, ha ! ha ! ha ! it vash so.' 
He made the young spendthrift charge the 
piece as if to give it a trial, and then de- 
clined the experiment to save tlie powder 
and lead; ' dat vash clean gain.' Having 
deposited the weapon in his bedchamber, 
he now found an earlier use for it than he 
had looked for. He had merely time to 
seize, raise it, and fire ; the brother fell a 
cripple for life. ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! yesh, vua 
cripple forever,' said Solomon, and his 
lank sides shook with laughter. What a 
fiend! thought I. Solomon had been too 
much among men not to read the thoughts 
in their index, the face, and assuming a se- 
rious air, ' Vash it not right? said he ; 'it 
vash for mein life.' 

" One may do that from necessity, which 
he will grieve over afterward,' said I. The 
Jew did not choose to understand the allu- 
sion. 

" ' And what became of your brother, Mr. 
Moses V said I. 

" ' He still at Hamburg,' said Solomon,, 
'de richest 'Ebrew of de Jews' quarter.' 

" And well he might be ; for, as Solomon 
said, shortly after the attempt made upon 
his life, his brother cheated him out of his 
whole estate in a business transaction. 
But for this last act of kindness he bore 
him no ill-will. Solomon would have done 
the same thing. When two expert gam- 
blers sit down to play, honesty is out of 
the question — to cheat is a part of the 
game. Solomon had purchased of his 
brother a hundred packages of diamonds, 
which, on being opened for manufacture, 
proved to be spurious ; Solomon's venders 
returned them upon his hands, but the trans- 
action between himself and his brother had, 
for certain reasons connected with the cus- 
toms, been a secret one, and he was ruined. 

" I often met with Solomon subsequent to 
this interview. His estimation of the mo- 
rality of others was based upon a conscious- 
ness of his own utter want of integrity ; 
and nothing could be more bitter and gen- 
eral than his denunciations, of which his 
own nation, as they are the most deserv- 
ing, so they received the largest portion. 
Unfortunately, if ill-success, adduced by 
vice, may be called misfortune, an emigrant, 
poor, with the debilities of age creeping 
upon him, he had settled down into a fixed 
haired of his species. For what end was 
such a being created ^ From his cradle to 
his grave a lie had been more familiar to 



*9 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



his lips than the triilh ; and as he had been 
taught that virtue had no beauty, he could 
see in vice no deformity. He sometimes 
came to my rooms for a hereditary com- 
plaint he had, and would sit till late in the 
Might, recounting stories of the dishonest 
practices of his brethren, and the means 
by which such immense fortunes have 
been amassed in Europe, from sources 
?8eemingly the most humble and insignifi- 
cant ; and, after relating some act of su- 
perlative rascality, requiring for its design, 
conduct, and final completion tact and 
physical courage, as well as utter derelic- 
tion of principle, he would rub his hands, 
laugh, and wish he had been made such a 
JTian. He had a German translation of 
SraoUet's Count Fathom, which he made 
his inseparable companion, and was the 
text upon which all his discourses and 
tales were a running commentary. He 
used to say that Fathom was the most ad- 
mirable character in the whole world of 
fiction, and that Smollet's novel embraced 
all those principles and maxims of conduct 
■which are best fitted to ensure success. 
That Fathom was made to be finally unfor- 
tunate, he attributed not to a just delinea- 
tion of the natural consequences of crime, 
but to the policy of a writer, who wished 
to conciliate the foolish prejudices of his 
readers. One who knew so well how to 
delineate a villain, he thought might have 
imparted much useful knowledge to a 
friend, and often wished he might have re- 
ceived the benefit of his instruction. I 
hated him. I believe I have a proper 
cliarity for my species — may Heaven for- 
give me if I am wrong — but I hated the 
little Jew mortally. He seemed so much 
to resemble an incarnation of those less- 
er and more malignant fiends Asmodius 
speaks of. I avoided him ; and for three 
months the reptile never crossed my path. 

" It was in the latter part of the month of 
July, when rumours of the expected epi- 
demic became rife, that, passing along 
• street, I saw Solomon coming hur- 
riedly towards me, with an anxious look, 
as if he had some important inquiry to 
make, or communication to impart. 

" ' Ah, toctor, no tead yet ?' said he, draw- 
ing up so immediately in front of me that 
I found it impossible to pass. 

" ' Is there such a report, Mr. Moses V 
said I. 

" ' Oh, mein Got, no ; but the tarn fever 
ish come ! You no see him yet, toctor V 
aad the little Jew looked up into my face 
with the expression of one who wishes 
that his question may not be answered in 
the negative. 

" ' Do not be alarmed, Mr. Moses,' said 
I ; ' if the epidemic comes at all, it is yet 
too early for its appearance.' 

" ' Alarmt ! early !' exclaimed Solomon, 
echoing ray words in a tone of disappoint- 



ment. ' Me no alarmt, toctor ; no, te tarn 
fever no touch me. I vash porn in te filth 
of Europe — lived in it — 'tish mine element 
— should 'ave died long go, but 'ave not 
blood enough to feed him — noting but skin 
and bone — 1 vish he vash here — too early, 
did you say, toctor 1 But he will come.' 

" ' Why do you think so?' 

" ' Because everybody say sho.' 

" ' And what reasons do they give for 
their opinion, Mr. Moses V 

" ' Te best in te world, toctor; 'tis sho 
very dry, and 'tis sho very vet — 'tis sho 
very 'ot, and 'tis sho very colt — he must 
come. Vat you say, toctor?' 

" ' This is the season for rumours. When 
the active business of the city is over, and 
men have nothing else to do, they specu- 
late upon a possible evil ; but, judging from 
mj'^ experience in these matters, I think 
we shall have no sickness this year, Mr. 
Moses,' said I. 

" ' Vash ! no shickness, toctor I Mein Got, 
I pe vun ruined man!' 

" ' Ruined ! How ? You have not turned 
physician?' 

" ' Pysic ! tarn pysic ; pegging your par- 
don, toctor. No, no ; you may kill,' said 
Solomon, ' I vill pury. Come vun five 
minute ; look in mein room, den you see 
vat for I vish him here, dat tam yellow 
fever. He no come, py Got, I go bring 
him,' and Solomon continued muttering 
and gesticulating as he walked like one ill 
at ease with himself, from some recent 
disappointment. ' Dere, dere,' said he, 
throwing open the door, ' he no come, I 
be vun ruined man.' I started back with 
surprise. The room in which we had held 
our first interview was now nearly filled 
with coflins of all sizes, packed in nests, 
one upon the other, from the floor to the 
ceiling. 

" ' You have caught the facility as well 
as the infection of the country, Mr. Moses,' 
said I. ' We do not continue long in a 
sinking business, and thrive by change. 
Something of a leap from the man of all 
business to the undertaker.' 

" ' I vill untertake to pury de whole of dis 
tam chity for half price, and clear vun mil- 
lion py de speculation, dat I vill, toctor,' 
said Solomon. ' Let me she : vun tousand 
cofiin, one tousand people, twenty tousand 
tollar ; twenty tousand dollar ish fifteen 
tousand ducat : vun goot leetle sum for 
nine monsh in dis tam country, toctor. 
Den I go back and pribe dem tam officer of 
de excise, and cheat mein bruder for mein 
property. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Goot !' And 
the little Jew slapped his breeches pockets 
as if he had already won the money he so 
unholily craved, by putting one half the 
city's population under the sod. 

" ' But, toctor,' resumed Solomon, assu- 
ming an air of seriousness, ' spose me die ! 
It may pe ! 'tis possible ! Ve vill all die 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



49 



sometime : it ish too true. Vashyou say, 
toctor?' 

" ' From the great progress made of late 
years in the science of chemistry, one may 
be justified in believing,' said I, ' that a 
medicine will soon be discovered capable 
of counteracting the effects both of disease 
and old age ; in that case, there would be 
no reason why a man should not live for- 
ever.' 

" ' D'ye tink sho ? Hope you not find dat 
secret 'fore next year. Shouldn't like to 
live mitout monish. Ah I monish ish dat 
means. Mit monish ve can puy anyting. 
Mit monish I vould pribe death, and puy 
out his kingdom. Ah ! get monish, toctor ; 
get monish.' 

" I turned from the Jew with disgust. 

" ' Vun minute, toctor,' said he, detaining 
me by the button. ' Your friend die ; he 
vant coffin ; I sell him cheap. Only twen- 
ty tollar.' 

" And in what did the Jew differ from the 
busy population of this great city 1 from 
the thousands who lie here, his fellow- 
sleepers in the grave ? — the reward of ava- 
rice ! Money, what a god ! How potent 
lo transform ! Beneath its touch, ugliness 
becomes beauty ; vice, virtue. Even na- 
ture looks doubly graceful when gilded by 
its pencil. What is sunshine to the poor^ 
What the bounteous profusion of Provi- 
dence 1 Tantalus, standing in water to 
his throat, dying of thirst. What to the 
poor man are the beauteous tints of the 
flower which springs up at Ijis feet ] the 
-cheerful green of the even plain 1 the soft 
murmur of the waving forest 1 the more 
grand and sublime forms of nature ? The 
mildest breeze is to him a cutting wind, 
piercing to the heart. Plunger is within, 
and all without is dark, dreary, desolate. 
Life to the poor is a mystery ; a pilgrim- 
age, crowded with trials, wants, sufferings, 
from its beginning to its end. Life for 
them has no happiness : why were they 
•born 1 Why do they live 1 But to the 
rich, winter is summer ; the rose looks up 
■where thorns meet the tread of want ; all 
created things, even man, put on a smiling 
aspect ; the world, to them, is a garden 
made for pleasure. Why do they live 1 
Why do they not live forever^ Gold, 
thou art, indeed, worthy the homage of the 
millions who daily bow at thy shrine, for 
thou art all powerful, and alone, of all the 
divinities of earth, receivest a universal 
■worship. Solomon, you were right. Get 
money. I can more than half pardon the 
errors of the Jew. 

" Solomon, counting upon the possibility 
of himself falling a victim to yellow fever, 
had sought out an undertaker, to chaffer 
for a coffin before an increase of demand 
should induce a corresponding increase of 
price. The sum asked for so indispensa- 
ble an article surprised him, and excited 
G 



his cupidity. After revolving the matter 
in his fruitful mind, he took his resolve, 
gathered up his effects, left the city, re- 
paired to Cincinnati, and bargained for a 
thousand. They were made, and he h^d 
just returned with his adventure, re-ady to 
take advantage of the first rise in the mar- 
ket. 

" Soon after this interview, the fever 
made its appearance. Solomon was the 
first to inform me of its arrival. 

"'I've seen him, toctor!' he exclaimed, 
bursting into my bedchamber in the morn- 
ing before sunrise. 

" ' Seen him ! Seen who V 

'" Vy, te tam fever. He ish come! Ha! 
ha!' ha! You say he no come! ha! ha! 
ha ! He ish here, in dis tam chity. I see 
him mit mein own eye ; ha ! ha ! ha ! I shall 
die for laugh ; ha ! ha ! ha ! Drizig tousand 
tollar. dat ish fifteen tousand ducat. I bin 
sick; ha! ha! ha! How de peoples fly! 
Vun dis vay, vun dat. Mein Got ! mein Got ! 
vat a very queer place dis New Orleans 
ish ! All drink, laugh, sing, and dance in 
vinter, as if he live forever ; and in summer 
all tink he die in vun minute! Ha! ha! 
ha ! I vish I vash executor of de chity.' 

" ' Who is sick, Mr. Moses V 

" ' Te pig merchant in street. He 

die, certain : te first vun alvays die ; and I 
sell mein first coffin.' 

" The Jew did, indeed, sell his first coffin. 
The merchant was taken sitting by the 
side of his wife, playing with his children, 
and died in three days. I saw Solomon at 
his funeral, which he attended in order to 
observe the good appearance made by his 
ware. The fever now increased daily ; 
and in the course of my professional rides 
through the city, I always met with Solo- 
mon, among the sick, the dying, and the 
dead : active, full of business, lively, and 
as happy as a Jew can be when making 
money. He gained the earliest intelligence 
of every fresh case. A recovery covered 
his countenance with gloom ; a fatal termi- 
nation filled it with joy ; and when the mor- 
tality amounted to 200 a day, he was in ecs- 
tasies. Whenever I met him, the salutation 
was, ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor, Fve sold an- 
oder coffm !' Neither rich nor poor es- 
caped his attention ; and I met with him 
as often watching at the straw pallet of 
some miserable outcast, that he might 
chaffer with the authorities he knew would 
order the burial, as in the apartments of 
the rich, bargaining with a fresh-made heir. 

" It was late one evening early in Octo- 
ber, when the fever, which had reached its 
height, began to decline for want of sub- 
jects on which to feed its insatiate appe- 
tite, and when, as if enraged, it assumes a 
more virulent form, and relaxes its hold 
with less willingness, that I returned to 
my rooms, weary, broken down, from 3 
day actively passed in the duties of my 



50 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



profession. I had scarcely retired — I 
needed rest ; I felt my constitution sink- 
ing beneath the fatigue of the past, two 
months — when the door of my cham- 
ber was thrown suddenly open, and Solo- 
mon stood before me : his face flushed — I 
did not suppose his thin body contained so 
much blood — his eyes fiery, glowing like a 
maniac's, and his whole frame violently 
agitated as if by extreme terror. 

" ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor ; he ! he ! he !' he 
commenced, with a wild, hysteric laugh; 
' I got him ! ha ! ha ! ha ! he ! he ! he.' And 
he laughed, and grinned, and drew his face 
into all sorts of distortions, and rolled him- 
self from side to side, as if subject, at one 
and the same time, to titillation and tor- 
ture. 

" ' The man is mad !' said I, leaping from 
my bed. 

" ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor ; he ! he ! he ! 1 
got him !' 

" ' Got what, Mr. Moses V said I. 
"'Te tam fever,' said Solomon. 
" ' And where did you find him, Mr. Mo- 
ses 1' 

" ' Fint him 1 ev'ry vere ; dere ish no lee- 
tle hole in dis tam chity vere he ish not 
fint. Fint him! ha! ha! ha! he fint me. 
Mein Got, vould it no be vun goot joke to 
pe puried in vun of mein oun coffins ! 
how queer I vould look ! Biter bit. Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! vat vun good story to tell mein 
bruder ; how he will laugh— he ! he ! he ! 
ah, oh !' and he writhed with pain. 

" ' How long since you first felt the at- 
tack, Mr. Moses "!' said I. 

" ' Not vun minute ; I vash veil — alvays 
veil ; goot appetite ; happy ; I make mon- 
ish ; had just put vun poor tevel in mein 
coffin ; screwed him town — all goot — te 
monish in mein hant — nevar trust — nevar 
trust him live — vont trust him tead! ha! ha! 
ha ! goot, dat, toctor. Ah ! oh ! vat shootin' 
in mein pack ! te monish in mein hant, 
ven, pop, te tap^ fever got me. First, he 
cover me all over mit ice, den he ran up 
and town mein pody mit mealted lead, mit 
te gout, mit te stone, mit ev'ry pain in te 
vorld. " Mein Got, you got te fever, Massa 
Moses," say te old nigger who vash mit 
me. " Aha, 1 tink sho too," say 1 ; put he 
no sho cunning ash he spose ; catch a wea- 
sel asleep ! ha ! ha ! ha !' and Solomon slmt 
one eye, and then the other, alternately. 

" I asked if 1 should send for his assist- 
ant. 

" ' He be here soon,' said he , 'can't run 
sho fast ash me ; I started, nigger after — 
stop him — mad tog — fire — stop tief — mur- 
ter, cried nigger. Mein Got, vat a hubbub ! 
how dey turn out ! up dis street— down dat 
— couldn't catch me ! ha ! ha! ha ! ah ! oh !" 
and Solomon sunk, exhausted, into a chair. 
"The negro now entered, followed by a 
crowd, breathless, and reeking with the an- 
imation of the chase. The negro had, in- 



deed, from the sudden manner in which his 
employer took leave, supposed him to 
have been struck daft — which often hap- 
pens in the onset of the disease — and fol- 
lowed hard in his wake, giving the alarm 
for the purpose of arresting his progress. 
1 formed a bier of two chairs, and the ne- 
gro, with his companions, removed the 
Jew to his lodgings. 

" Solomon was one of the sudden cases ; 
he was taken with a chill, immediately fol- 
lowed by fever, and pains in the head, back, 
and limbs. I found his skin hot and dry ; 
pulse 110; occasionally delirious ; tongue 
white, with red edges ; eyes red and glassy ; 
bled him twenty ounces ; ordered cold ap- 
plications to the surface generally ; mus- 
tard bath to the feet; injections of oil and 
salt, and left him for the night. On my re- 
turn in the morning, he had slept but little, 
yet felt better : pulse 98 ; tongue as be- 
fore ; skin generally hot, though soft ; rath- 
er more feverish, with increase of pain in 
the head ; ordered cups to epigastrium and 
neck ; he lay very quiet ; spoke not at all, 
and seemed to have forgotten his coffins. 
Thus he continued during that day. On 
my next call, I found he had passed a bad 
night. Ordered fifteen leeches to epigas- 
trium, and two cups behind the ears, which 
gave great relief ; he soon fell into a gen- 
tle sleep ; a free perspiration ; his eyes 
were clear, and his expression— if such a 
thing can be said of a Jew's expression — 
good. The third day, at ten o'clock in the 
evening, the negro came to my rooms and 
called me to see his master. He was 
worse. On entering his chamber, I found 
him sitting up in his bed, looking steadfast- 
ly at the wall opposite. He was rational. 
I approached tlie bed, and remarked that I 
was glad to find him so well. 

'" Toctor, vash ish dat?' saidhe, pointing- 
to some dark flaky matter, like coffee- 
grounds, sticking to the wall. 

" 1 endeavoured to withdraw his attention 
from the object upon which it was fixed. 
The fearful truth flashed upon me, and I 
wished to conceal it ; but without avail. 
The Jew turned, and looked fixedly at me 
with an eye which seemed to penetrate my 
inmost thouglits. ' Toctor,' said he, in a. 
slow, sepulchral tone, ' tish finished mit 
me and mein coffins ; dat ish le plack vom- 
it V 

" The negro afterward told me that Solo- 
mon, a short time before I was called, 
ejected the matter from his stomach, and 
threw it that distance without strain or ef- 
fort. 

" ' You vill not deceive me ; you can't 
deceive me, toctor,' continued Solomon ; 
' mein time ish come ; I must die ; no 
more speculation ; no more ducat. I pid 
goot py to te vorld, and Moses vill lie town 
ash his faters laid town von te tays of 
Abraham, to sleep forever;' and he sank 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Si 



calmly back upon his pillow, folded his 
arms upon his breast, and seemed compo- 
sing himself to pass from this world to 
that which is to come with the dignity and 
resignation of a philosopher. 1 endeav- 
oured to awaken hopes of recover}' ; my 
eflbrts were answered with looks of incre- 
dulity and displeasure. 

" ' Can I do anything for you, Mr. Mo- 
ses V said I, seeing a rapid change coming 
over him, which told too certainly of ap- 
proaching dissolution. 

" ' Toctor,' said he, ' I tie mit sunrise ; 
vill you perry meV 

'"I will.' 

" ' Und in vun of mein own cofRn ■? he ! he ! 
he ! how mein bruder vill laugh ! ya, in 
run of mein own coffin ; it vill to ; 'tvill 
cost noting.' 

" ' Will you lie in the Jews' burying 
ground, Mr. Moses V 

" ' No, mit te Christian,' said he ; 'I von 
mein monish from mein enemy, und I 
vould like get vun leetle bit of lant von 
him too, he! he! he! pesides, te Christian 
vill alvays keep te ground, put te Jew — ' 
and Solomon opened and closed each eye 
alternately. 

" I promised that all should be done as 
he desired. 

" ' And put mein gun py my side in mein 
coffin, veil sharged ; should vun person met- 
tle mit mein poddy, it might go off ! he ! he ! 
he ! vun goot idea. Mein bruder, if he 
come, vill open mein coffin to fint te pelts 
I vears, he ! he ! he ! it vould make me laugh 
in mein grave ; he look for monish, und 
fint ball ! he ! he ! he ! Now, toctor, vun 
last request : vill you write mein vilH' 

" ' I will call a notary,' said I. 

"'Vill te notary take vun coffin for his 
pay?' said Solomon; 'ah! te tam coffin. 
If I live for pury five hundret more, I 
vould die mit satisfaction; put ve never 
prepared. No, toctor, you shall write 
inem vill, and pe mein executor.' 

'' ' Who are your heirs, Mr. Moses V 

" ' I 'ave put vun, and dat ish mein bruder.' 

" ' What, the cheat ? he who would have 
robbed and murdered you at night ? you 
will not give him your property V said I. 

" ' Toctor, you ish no Ishraelite,' said Sol- 
omon ; ' you not understand mein feeling. 
For zwei tousand year mein racn is vun out- 
cast on te face of te earth ; if ve hate te 
Christian, 'ave we not cause ! Te Christian 
taught us to scheet to live, and ve are lived 
to scheet vun anoder — he ! he ! he ! I nevar 
repent put vunce, und dat vash ven I give 
alms to vun starving Christian — vun curse 
upon te race ! I vill give all to mein bru- 
der; it ish vun goot consolation to know 
dat mein heir ish rich.' 

" ' He will take it by right of succession, 
without a will,' said I. 

" ' You vill promish to teliver it into hish 
hant, toctor V 



" I promised. 

" ' Take hish terection, toctor : Levi Mo- 
ses, No. 164 strate, Hamburg ; und 

here ish mein monish, mein all, pesides te 
tam coffin — he ! he ! he ! Moses 'ave done 
veil, goot, very goot !' he continued, rais- 
ing himself up ; and with a trembling hand 
he drew out from within the mattress on 
which he lay a well-filled canvass bag. 
He held it up, and examined the tie of the 
string about its mouth. It was all right ; 
he sank back upon his pillow, and clasped 
it to his breast. ' Ah ! mein Got ! mein 
Got !' he exclaimed, ' must ve part, mein 
pest, mein only frient !' 

" I endeavoured to call his thoughts to a 
contemplation of the next world. 

" I die vun Sadducee I' said he. 

" The first ray of the rising sun entered 
the bedchamber. The Jew drew the bag 
to his lips, kissed it, and mourned aloud. 
His breathing became difficult ; 1 ordered, 
the negro to take the bag from him. 

" ' Murter ! mein bruder ! give me light ! 
ropper ! mein Got ! die ! Moses vill not 
die !' he exclaimed, leaping from his bed, 
with the bag clutched by both hands, with, 
the firm hold of death. He stood for a 
moment, his eyes fixed and glaring, as if 
upon an object of terror. ' How dark it 
grows !' said he ; fell back, and expired. 
May God have mercy on his soul. 

" I obeyed Solomon's instructions. He 
lies there, with the gun at his side. The' 
canvass bag contained near five thousand 
dollars, mostly in gold, the result of his 
venture in coffins. I wrote to his brother, 
and put an advertisement in the Hamburg 
newspapers. Six claimants started up, all 
asserting themselves to be Solomon's 
brother, and each backed by proof enough 
to hang a hundred innocent men. The 
matter has gone into our courts of law, 
and when litigation is ended little will be 
left of Solomon's ill-gotten gains." 

" The doctor sometimes tells that storyr 
differently," said the lawyer. 

" It is horrible enough as it is," said I. 

" He did say," continued the lawyer, 
" that he forgot the Jew's gun at the burial, 
and afterward carried it to his grave, with 
the intention of laying it upon his coffin, 
when Solomon knocked oflF the lid, seized 
the weapon, carefully stowed it away in. 
its place, and calmly resumed his former 
position." 

" Let us go to the theatre !" said the- 
doctor. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 

'Fond worldlings there, involved in vain delight, 
Who to the senses Iraile indulgent are, 

And (as soft sounds the courage do invite), 
With measured inadnesse inarch ujjon the aire." 

Stikling. 



52 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ARGUMENT. 
Music. — The Theatre. — The Strange Gentleman. — 
An Accident. — The Strange Gentleman at Home. 
—The Opera. — Leonie. — Music and Poetry. — The 
Mar.seillaise Hymn. — The .S\ippcr. — Good Breed- 
ing. — Poets and Philosophers. — Hi.storians and 
History. — The Dance. — The Judgemnt of Paris. 
La Sylphide. — La Cachuca. 

From the cemetery to the theatre ! and 
of a Sabbath evening, too ! Both the time 
and the contrast are equally cliaracteristic 
of the city I describe. So true it is, that 
the manners and opinions of a people are 
best studied in the most common and ev- 
cry-day acts of life. Neither the doctor 
nor the lawyer was of that portion of the 
population of New Orleans whose distinc- 
tive character has coloured that of all the 
rest. So true it is, again, that emigrants, 
however diversified in extraction and edu- 
cation, soon mould themselves to the cus- 
toms of a new home, put off old habits, and 
receive, instead of giving a lone to socie- 
ty. In the French quarter it is fashionable 
to go to the opera on Sunday evening. 
Then it is that the '' dress circle" is most 
graced, and the players excited to emula- 
tion by a crowd which fills the " Temple" 
from pit to ceiling ; but the Americans re- 
tain many of the scruples of an early edu- 
cation, and their theatres are then patron- 
ised almost entirely by strangers. 
i The doctor was a lover of the opera, 
and kept his "box." "Music," he said, 
" was the most refined, subtile, and pure 
of all the pleasures of the senses ; and, as 
he could not conceive how an enjoyment 
■which depended so much upon the physi- 
cal structure of the body could exist in our 
spiritual state, he thought it wise, and to 
be in a measure his duty, to secure as 
much of it in this life as possible." He 
never missed the leader's first note, and 
sat, during the whole performance, with 
his eyes closed, and his head reclining 
upon the cushioned rail, wrapped in elysi- 
um. The pantoiiime of an opera was 
nothing to him. He said " that the ges- 
tures and grimaces of the actors interfered 
\witli and lessened the effect of the music ; 
that it was impossible to gratify, to their 
utmost capacity for pleasure, any two of 
the senses at one and the same time ; that 
the words of an opera, however admirable 
as a poetical composition, added nothing to 
its effect, and Avere of use only as being 
the model upon which sounds are con- 
structed." He made the poet subservient 
to the composer, and esteemed his verse 
merely as the setting which held together 
and exhibited to the best advantage the 
diamonds of his colaberator. The doctor 
possessed the two opposite passions of 
love and hate in an extreme degree ; the 
first he gave to music ; the other, judging 
from the story he had just told, to the 
Jews. The lawyer was the opposite of 
liis friend. His sympathies were with Sol- 



omon, and he was accustomed to say that, 
throughout the entire history of the con- 
flict between the Jew and the Christian, 
the Israelite was the wronged, as well as 
suffering party, with scarcely a shadow of 
justification for those whose religion pro- 
fesses to be founded in charity. He could 
not distinguish one note from another, and 
said that the doctor's passion for music 
was to him inexplicable ; for he played 
upon no instrument, and would probably 
fail if he should make the attempt. 

The doctor ridiculed the objections of his 
friend, and explained the mystery by say- 
ing, '• That there were two qualities requi- 
site for the appreciation of music ; one 
physical, and seated in the ear, the other 
purely mental. An artist may perform 
well, and yet not be so exquisitely sensi- 
tive to the pleasure of the tones he produ- 
ces as one who is incapacitated, by phys- 
ical defect alone, from performing at all. 
It is only when both quahties meet in the 
same individual that a Paganini or a Mo- 
zart is found. The magnificent rhythm of 
Thomson's verse," continued the doctor, 
" proves that he had a fine mental percep- 
tion of music, yet he was not even a toler- 
able reader of his own • Seasons.' The 
first of English actors could modulate his 
voice to the expression of every passion, 
but he could not compose a song." 

We now entered the theatre ; it is in 
Orleans-street — a small building, without 
any pretensions to beauty or regularity of 
style in architecture ; but, as New Orleans 
is the only city in the United States where 
French plays and the French Opera are 
performed, we cannot ask why its patrons 
have done no more. The hour was early, 
yet we found pit and boxes already filled 
with the elite and beauty of the French 
quarter, interspersed, here and there, with 
a representative from the American. When 
the opera commenced the whole audience 
seemed composed of amateurs, so profound 
was its attention, and so much enjoyment 
was depicted upon the faces of all. I felt 
transported to a European city — the lan- 
guage sung was foreign to my ear, and the 
features and dress of those about me equal- 
ly foreign to my eye. The mustached lips 
of the men, the richness of their toilet — 
which had neither the plainness nor that 
nice keeping in colours which mark the 
American or English gentleman — the dark 
hair, dark eyes, and somewhat dark com- 
plexion of the women, with the exquisite 
taste and set of the Frencli millinery, car- 
ried me to Paris; everything was Parisian 
about me, and I was, in spirit, three thou- 
sand miles distant from American soil : 
so easy it is in this, the most unique of 
cities, to pass, in a walk of five minutes, 
from Dover to Calais, or from New- York 
to Madrid ; even the German boor may 
find the clogged pattens and guttural patois 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



53 



of his own Dorfschaft without wandering 
far in the search. But Creole beauty lo- 
ses by collection. The same embonpoint 
of feature, the same bright black eyes, and 
the same smoothly-combed, dark, glossy 
hair, produced a uniformity of expression 
— a strong family likeness— and might in- 
duce a stranger to suppose their fair own- 
ers all sisters : like the peach, the most 
luscious of fruits, it shows to the best ad- 
vantage in the single specimen, and clogs 
the eye when exhibited in clusters. 

More attracted by the novelty of the 
show about me than by the music of the 
opera — for in such matters 1 possess a 
taste much similar to the lawyer's — I pass- 
ed the evening in scanning the new world of 
fashion in which I found myself. A gentle- 
man who occupied a box opposite our own 
most strongly fixed my attention. Although 
the house was otherwise crowded in every 
part, he sat alone, unobtruded upon, recog- 
nised by, and recognising no one. His 
dress, though rich and in high fashion, was 
plain, and had an air of neatness which es- 
chewed all attempt at show or dash. Of 
a tall, slim person, with dark brown hair, 
combed rather carefully back from a high, 
marble forehead, with marked, heavy fea- 
tures of a pale cast, he had the appearance 
of a man of wealth, refinement, and ton ; 
of one who had gained much from educa- 
tion, and more from nature. Born, per- 
haps, to fortune, and familiar with high so- 
ciety from his birth, he had, by the aid of 
good taste, corrected the grosieretes which 
are to be found even there, reduced good- 
breeding to a science, and, having system- 
atized its somewhat arbitrary laws, applied 
them to their legitimate end — the securing 
of happiness to ourselves, and the impart- 
ing it to others with whom we come in 
contact in the interchange of the business 
and civilities of life. 

I asked the lawyer who the gentleman 
was — the doctor was too much wrapped 
in music to answer my questions. 

'• No one knows who he is, that ever I 
could find out," said the lawyer. " As you 
see him now, so you might have seen him 
for more than a year past — lounging in his 
box, himself the sole occupant — listening 
to the music and watching the movements 
of the opera with an air of nonchalance, 
as if he had studied of Epicurus, and pleas- 
ure witli him was not a matter of excite- 
ment — noticing no one, although many a 
glass is turned stealthily upon him, in 
hopes to solve the mystery. He is called 
' the Strange Gentleman." " 

As the doctor, the lawyer, and myself 
were leaving the theatre at the close 
of the night's performance, we saw the 
strange gentleman enter a light phaeton, 
which stood among a crowd of carriages 
at the door. The horses were restiff, and 
getting entangled among the city cabs, be- 



came frightened, and refused to obey the 
bit. The altercation of the cabmen had no 
tendency to quiet their fears, and the phae- 
ton, notwithstanding many skilful attempts 
made by the stranger, who had assumed 
the reins to extricate himself, was soon 
overturned. The doctor, followed by the 
lawyer and myself, hastened to learn the 
consequences of the accident, and, pushing 
through the crowd which had gathered 
about him, we found the stranger lying 
upon the pavement, insensible. The doc- 
tor assumed the authority of his profession, 
put back the throng, felt the gentleman's 
pulse, ordered him to be carried into a 
neighbouring house, bled him, and, by ap- 
plication of the means ordinarily used in 
such cases, soon restored consciousness 
and health. The gentleman had, in reali- 
ty, suffered but little injury by the acci- 
dent, and after expressing his gratitude for 
our kind services, he warmly pressed us to 
accompany him to his house and sup with 
him. It was already past eleven, but he 
said it was his hour; and although the doc- 
tor excused himself on account of a pa- 
tient he wished to call upon, and the law- 
yer on account of a brief he was to argue 
in the morning, I accepted the invitation. 

The strange gentleman's house, which is 

in street, is the only pure specimen of a 

peculiar style of Spanish architecture, call- 
ed the " entre suelo," now reinaining in 
the city. The first, or ground floor, he ap- 
propriates exclusively to his horses ; the 
second, or " entre suelo," to the stowage 
of grain and hay, and for servants' rooms ; 
while the third, or upper story, contains 
his own private apartments : thus retain- 
ing, in the disposition of the different parts 
of his house to their several uses, the ori- 
ginal design of its architect. The same 
economy of arrangement is still retained 
in many parts of old Spain and the south 
of France, and elucidates numerous pas- 
sages of the older Spanish romances which 
would be otherwise inexplicable. The 
first and third stories are high and airy, 
while the second is but a half story thrust 
in between the other two. An iron balcony 
projects from the third floor, and encircles 
the house ; a promenade from which a lady 
may look down upon the streets below with- 
out being subjected to the gaze of the 
passers-by. It must, indeed, have required 
a silken ladder of some length to mount to 
such a height, and much caution on the 
part of the venturous lovers to escape the 
observation of vigilant servants below ; 
while the old don, on discovering the flight 
of his bird, might easily descend, saddle a 
steed, and follow in hot pursuit, without 
allowing time for an English squire to pass 
from his house to his stables. 

The strange gentleman drove within the 
building, and we alighted at a marble step, 
leading by a side door into a narrow hall. 



54 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



at the end of which a steep flight of stairs 
ascended, without break or resting-place, 
from the first to the third floor. 

" You live in a fortified place," said I, as 
we readied the landing half out of breath ; 
" one might as easily scale a wall as this 
staircase." 

" It does, indeed, little comport with our 
ideas of comfort and convenience," replied 
the stranger; "but it is significant of the 
character of the people who introduced and 
use it. No man would live upon tlie top of 
his house who was not jealous of his wife, 
nor willingly subject hiniself to such an 
ascent twenty times a day, did he not think 
the fatigue more than compensated by the 
capacity of surveying at a glance the whole 
extent of so efficient an aid to an intrigue. 
This would not do for a man of family ; 
but a bachelor, who loves retirement, can- 
not be better situated ; the very difficulty 
of getting to you keeps out intruders," con- 
tinued the stranger, showing me into a 
large, well-proportioned room, furnished 
with whatever the wit of upholstery ever 
invented to pander to ease and sensual en- 
joyment : luxurious chairs, sofas, and otto- 
jnans, cushioned with tapestry represent- 
ing the history of Cupid and Psyche ; a 
magnificent Turkey carpet, soft as eider to 
the tread ; pictures old enough to be by the 
old masters ; while four large mirrors, hung 
opposite each other on either wall, multi- 
plied the apartment in every direction, un- 
til it was lost in distant perspective. 

My host conducted me to a seat, and, re- 
clining languidly upon a sofa, ordered a 
slave who stood in waiting to bring a bot- 
tle of hock wine. 

'• Hock, like olives," said he, "quickens 
the sensibility of the palate, and it will give 
me much pleasure to be permitted to drink 
a glass with you prior to supping." 

I alluded to the opera. 

" The opera," said the strange gentle- 
man, " combining, as it does, two arts pro- 
ceeding from th-^ loftiest qualities of the 
mind, is at once the most artificial and 
most perfect of man's intellectual crea- 
tions. Music, like poetry, is incapable of 
being defined. The difficulty consists part- 
ly in the barrenness of language, its inabil- 
ity to give expression to many of our 
highest thoughts and feelings, and partly in 
ourselves. One who is devoid of musical 
taste would hardly understand what it is 
were it most clearly defined, and he who is 
blessed with the Divine gift needs no other 
definition. Language is not subtile enough 
nor flexible enough to comprehend it ; nor 
does the resemblance end here. Poetry is 
one and the same to all, as the sun is one 
and the same to all ; seen with a clear or 
more obscure vision. It is confined to no 
class of objects, and dwells equally with 
life, decay, and death ; music walks hand 
in hand at her side." 



The slave returned, bearing the wine and 
three appropriate glasses upon a silver 
waiter. My host's luxury extended even 
to his wine cups : they were cut of an octa- 
gon shape, and upon each face was ground 
a scene from the Orgia of Bacchus. Men 
and women, sileni, satyrs, and Maenades, 
crowned with vines and ivy, brandished the 
thyrses, and danced around the soft and 
graceful form of the naked deity to the 
tones of flutes and tymbrels. 

" The third glass is for Leonie," said the 
strange gentleman, filling it with wine ; 
" though she seldom touches the nectar to 
her lips, I always pour a libation to her ; 
and here she comes to acknowledge my 
worship." 

As the stranger spoke, a beautiful wom- 
an of some eighteen summers entered the 
room, and walked hurriedly towards us. 

" John, I was told you were hurt I" said 
she, in a tone of mingled anxiety and sur- 
prise, while she contrasted the stranger's 
disordered and soiled dress with the pleas- 
urable occupation in which he was en- 
gaged. 

The strange gentleman rose, and intro- 
duced me as one who had extended to him 
much kindness on the occasion of the late 
accident. " Will mademoiselle sit ?" and 
he handed Leonie to a seat at his side upon 
the sofa. 

Leonie was a brunette, with just enough 
of colour to give ripeness to her beauty. 
One would have said that she was a native 
of the south of Italy, or those parts of 
Spain which yet retain a mixture of Moor- 
ish blood. In stature rather above the 
medium size, her form was full, round as 
chiselled marble — perfect; perhaps I might 
better express its eff"ect as a whole, set oft" 
as it was by a richness of dress and super- 
fluity of ornament which was far from be- 
ing attic, by saying it was magnificent. 
Her features, although a little irregular, 
approached the Grecian nearer than any 
other model, and her large dark eyes, fine- 
ly arched brows, and straight jetty hair, 
put up a la grace, improved the resem- 
blance. Her hands were rather too small 
to be in just proportion with the other parts 
of her person : a fault which, if it is one, 
she was not unwilling should be observed, 
for her little taper fingers were loaded 
with precious stones, showing that the 
stranger, for whom she dressed, approved 
in woman a departure from that severity 
of taste which regulated his own toilet, 
and that his mind was not wholly free from 
a stain of Asiatic barbarity, whicH loves to 
heap pearl and gold upon the soft object 
of its pleasures. 

" I was in truth not much hurt, Leonie," 
said the strange gentleman ; " though the 
accident^ was an awkward one, and threat- 
ened more serious consequences. Had 
you have been with me, you might have 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



55 



managed the horses better; for one who 
knows so well how to curb a more in- 
tractable animal should hold the reins 
with no unskilful hand. Come, you will 
take wine with my guest ; he sups with us 
to-night, and I do not wish to see you with 
too dainty an appetite at the table," con- 
tinued my host, presenting the glass. 

" I rule by following where you lead, 
and drink wine that you may learn absti- 
nence," said Leonie, smihng archly, while 
she touched the divine Johannesberg to 
her lips. 

" We were speaking of the opera, Le- 
onie," said the strange gentleman, return- 
ing to the conversation which her entrance 
had interrupted ; " and you will permit me 
to run on in my way upon a subject which 
we both love so much. The foundation of 
music is rhyme and harmony : of poetry, 
beauty ; beauty as abstracted from all ob- 
jects, feelings, passions^ thoughts," he con- 
tinued, resuming the parallel he had drawn 
between the two arts. " There can be no 
sublimity without beauty ; or, rather, sub- 
limity is beauty of the noblest kind. Har- 
mony is beauty — T speak of abstract qual- 
ities — true passion is, therefore, beauty; 
for we perceive its harmony with the 
cause which gave rise to it, and the char- 
acter in which it is exhibited. The inti- 
mate connexion existing between music 
and poetry may be traced in all their vari- 
ous exhibitions, showing that they are in- 
deed so nearly allied in nature that we 
must wonder, not that they were in the be- 
ginning invariably joined together, but that 
the perfection of the compact was attained 
at so late a date. There is a poetry which 
seems not of this world, but to be altogether 
of heavenly birth ; a song to be sung where 
all is pure and holy. It has no sympathy 
with the realities of life, sickens in our 
murky atmosphere, and flies the haunts 
of men. Its sweetest notes are heard in 
the retired vale, or on the tops of distant 
mountains, where the busy hum of men 
does not come up and mingle their evil 
passions, desires, gains, losses, and cares, 
with its strains. There is a music, too, 
which delights in retirement : the shaded 
■walk at noon, the lonely grot, whose tones 
seem attuned to the twinkling stars, and to 
love the wild and fanciful creations of na- 
ture. Is it not so, Leonie 1 No one can 
better appreciate what I am saying than 
yourself ; do, then, please me, lend me 
your aid, and exemplify to our friend the 
truth of my remarks." 

Leonie rose, and seating herself at the 
piano, struck the keys. It was a short 
Scottish air, so pure, so soft, so clear, so 
mild and gentle in every tone, that I feared 
lest a breath might break its melody, as 
the notes floated upon the air like the sin- 
gle web (A the spider — too delicate for 
other touch than that of vision. 



" But poetry has a wider range," contin- 
ued the stranger. " It proceeds from all 
nature, and is a part of all her works. 
Every object, animate and inanimate, every 
passion and affection of the mind, all the 
different states of created things, are its 
subjects. W'e find it in the crowded as- 
sembly, mingling in the occupations of 
men, rejoicing in their success, and mourn- 
ing over their misfortunes. The same 
may be said, with equal truth, of music. 
There is a poetry which is purely didac- 
tic — listen to the compositions of Henry 
Purcell. There is a poetry which is pure- 
ly imaginative — Leonie has given us a 
specimen from a similar department in 
music. There is a poetry distinguished 
for grace, expressive taste, and sensibility; 
so also is the music of Tartini. There is 
the poetry of Ariosto's great poem ; it 
stands alone, protean in its character: of no 
school, yet embracing all. Such, also, is 
the music of Rossini. There is a poetry 
of maimers, of men, and society, which 
correctly depicts the customs of the times, 
and satirizes with an even stroke its foi- 
bles ; which delights by its humour, and 
satisfies by apt illustration ; the poetry of 
Chaucer, of Hudibras, of Pope, of Boileau, 
of Horace, and of A ristophanes ; such, also, 
was the music of Damon, which Plato as- 
serted could not be changed without chan- 
ging the constitution of the state. Again, 
there is a poetry of empires and kingdoms, 
which sings their rise and fall, with their 
causes ; the strifes of the ambitious, thfe 
triumphs of the successful, the utter ruin 
of the conquered — is there not a corre- 
sponding class of music 1 Leonie, play 
the Marseillaise Hymn." 

Leonie passed from the piano to the or- 
gan. The music rose and filled the room ; 
the full notes pealed upon the ear, crowd- 
ing upon each other in hurried succession, 
varying with the passions of the stern re- 
publicans who, goaded to madness by the 
sting of tyranny, poured out blood like wa- 
ter, now swelling with triumph, and now 
sinking, not with fear of defeat, but in low, 
plaintive tones of evils endured. The 
whole history of the French revolution 
passed in wild and gloomy review before 
me, act by act, called from their graves by 
the sorcery of association. The stranger 
sat looking out upon vacuity — his lips firm- 
ly pressed together — his features pale, fix- 
ed, stern ; he felt as the actors in that great 
drama felt : how deep and fearful were 
the emotions which then held sway in his 
breast! Such is the power of sounds. Even 
Leonie's dark eyes flashed with the excite- 
ment, and her heaving bosom bespoke the 
furor which is caught from sympathy. 
There is indeed " a music of empires and 
of kingdoms, which sings their rise and fall, 
with their causes." 

" Music and poetry are twin-sisters, born 



56 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



in the same hour," said the strange gentle- 
man, as the last note died upon the ear. 
" Ah ! it was too much for me. Leonie, 
you play too well ; you move the passions, 
destroy the appetite ; our friend will not 
do justice to our hospitality." 

Leonie rose from the organ, and tears 
stood upon her eyelids. 

" Come, come to me, poor dove," said 
the strange gentleman ; " your extreme 
sensibility will destroy you ;" and Leonie 
swnk down at his side, and buried her face 
in his bosom. 

"It is strange," said she, raising her 
head after a short interval, and a little 
abashed by the weakness she had discov- 
ered ; " of what material are we made ■? 
John would have me read to him the dark 
story of that terrible revolution in a hun- 
dred books, and I cannot play the hymn 
but its tragic memories rush back upon and 
overwhelm me. Yet philosophy tells us 
it is but a dream that is past, and I will 
learn to forget it. John, you will arrange 
your toilet for supper V 

The strange gentleman ordered a slave 
to conduct me to my room, while he re- 
tired to make those changes in his dress 
which the late accident had rendered ne- 
cessary. 

Perhaps it is well that wealth induces 
luxury ; the poor are benefited when the 
rich seemingly squander. A bottle of wine 
puts a thousand hands in motion, and gives 
bread to a hundred families ; I will not, 
then, complain of the luxury of my host, 
which grew upon me at every step, and 
was not least to be seen in the complete- 
ness of the garniture of the dressing-room, 
and the costliness of the material of which 
the several articles of the toilet were form- 
ed. In a niche in the wall was a marble 
bath, surmounted by a crouching Venus. 
The slave offered to fill it, but I declined 
using it, and, as I am not nice in my dress, 
was soon ready for the call to supper. 

The slave ushered me into a third apart- 
ment — the library — where I found Leonie 
and the strange gentleman waiting my 
coming ; the latter en dishabille, in a green 
velvet gown, spotted with gold tags, and 
worked slippers of the same material, fast- 
ened upon the foot with ruby clasps. The 
walls of the rooms were hidden by books, 
while many a musty tome in folio lay in 
heaps about the floor. 

" I always sup here, I feel so much at 
home and at ease among my books," said 
the strange gentleman, as we sat down to 
a light supper : it should not have been 
otherwise, taken at midnight. The chan- 
ges were few, but of exquisite choice ; and 
it was upon this occasion that I first tast- 
ed the LacrimcE Christi. Leonie presided 
with a simplicity of manner that won my 
heart. 

Curious to learn something of the life 



and habits of my host, I spoke of society 
in New Orleans. 

" I do not mix in it," said the stranger, 
"The society of New Orleans, like its pop- 
ulation, is of a composition too heteroge- 
neous to be agreeable. Civilization neces- 
sarily creates distinct classes among men, 
differing in knowledge, in refinement, and 
in manners. Can the illiterate find pleas- 
ure in the company of the learned, or a 
boor enjoy the conversation of a man of 
the world "? You may depress the one, but 
you cannot raise the other. 

" Good breeding and vulgarity are like 
oil and water : every attempt at amalga- 
mation will prove futile. Good breeding, 
or propriety of manners, address, and con- 
versation, is as much a matter of the un- 
derstanding as any science or learning' 
whatever. Some minds acquire knowl- 
edge by their own internal efforts, without 
the help of outward aids, and this we call/ 
genius. Some men are by nature grace- 
ful and polite : their conversation is never 
gross, their carriage always correct, all 
without the tutoring of much or high com- 
pany; and this, too, is equally genius. 
There are other minds which acquire 
knowledge from books, and there are oth- 
er men who acquire politeness from obser- 
vation ; the operation which brings im- 
provement is in both equally intellectual. 
There is a beauty in good manners, which, 
to be seen and understood, requires the 
same delicacy of taste that is necessary to> 
perceive and feel the beauty of a landscape,, 
a picture, or a piece of statuary. If we 
were all masters of the propriety of speech, 
knew what words to receive and what to 
reject, we might all be good writers ; but 
it is not so ; neither is it otherwise in good 
breeding. But here the elite are of a dif- 
ferent opinion, and I busy myself among 
my books, with Leonie, a perennial flower, 
to smile upon my waking, and shed sweet 
odours over my sleeping hours." 

The cloth was removed, and upon 
the small round table of polished ebony, 
around which we sat on circular seats, 
cushioned with scarlet-coloured damask,, 
were placed baskets of wrought silver, 
loaded with fruit that might have closed a 
regal feast. Flagons of the same rich ma- 
terial, curiously embossed with scenes 
from the vintage, and filled with choice 
wines — Madeira, it is my favourite — stood 
on ivory stands, while slaves served the 
grape in small goblels of cut crystal. The 
stranger grew eloquent, and Leonie's wit 
enlivened many an anecdote of her resi- 
dence in Paris. She had been educated 
there. 

" You give your days to the poets and 
the philosophers," said I, looking around 
upon the crowded shelves which were oa 
every side of us. 

" No !" said the stranger. " There was 



NEW ORLEANS AS I ]?OUND IT. 67 

a time when I loved them ; and consulting 1 " Eloquence ' He closes his ears to the 
the pleasures of sight as well as those of j wonderful cadence of the orators of 
the mind, I purchased the most rare and Athens—" 
elegant editions ; but my taste has changed 
of late, and Lfeonic, who now differs from 
me in such matters, has become heir to all 
these treasures. History and biography 
are the only true wells of knowledge, 
apart from personal observation. It was 
not truth Avhich inspired the ancient philos- 
ophers, and created those systems of Eth- 
ics, so grand in their conception, so varied 
in their doctrines, so imposing in their 
pretensions, and so beautifully imbodied ; 
which fed the vanity of those who taught, 
blunted the moral perception of those who 
heard, and have been the source of that 
strange obliquity which characterizes the 
larger portion of modern literature, and 
pervades its more serious compositions, 
even in theology ; which taught the wise 
of those days to reject the religion of the 
people, and have affected with unbelief the 
minds of the learned from their age to the 
present. Truth did not inspire the poets : 
the bacchanalian, the erotic, the comic, 
the epic, and the tragic, all are imbued 
with error. Instructed by truth, does the 
tragic muse clothe deformity in verse sweet- 
er than the honey of Hybla or Hymittus, 
moving the passions of men with a pathos 
which forgets the crime in compassion for 
the criminal "!" 

" How changed !" said Leonie. " There 
was a time when John carried a poet in 
each pocket : now he sits in judgment 
upon them all, and condemns all. The 
Grecian comic, the Roman lyric, the lux- 
urious stanza of Italy, the wild imaginings 
of Calderon and De Vega, the broad humour 
of Jonson, the pastorals, rondeaux, fableux, 
and chansons of France, all of ancient and 
modern poesy, he, like the licentiate Pero 
Perez, would now devote to the flames, 
did I not interpose and save them. Phi- 
losophy ! he will not even listen to the di- 
vine discourses of Socrates." 

" Who, in his last hour, ordered a sacri- 
fice to p]sculapius ; thereby assenting to 
the superstitions he had spoken against, 
and destroying, at a blow, the sublime 
fabric he had raised, and which but waited 
its consummation in the poisoned chalice," 
said the strange gentleman. 

" Art ! He speaks against the inspired 
sculptors, who fixed in marble those per 



" Which sustained their power, and filled 
the city with the dissipation consequent 
upon refinement and luxury ; luxury in 
buildings, luxury in dress, luxury at the ta- 
ble, luxury at the bath, luxury at the thea- 
tre, and luxury at the public shows, till the 
people were contaminated, their character 
debased, honesty trampled upon, patriot- 
ism fled, and it sunk beneath a power, then 
more virtuous, but alike destined to tread 
the same steps of decay," said my host. 

" Alas !" cried Leonie, laughing, and 
pointing to a volume in vellum which lay 
open, turned upon its face, on a side-table, 
" old Philip de Comines engages all his 
waking hours, to the exclusion even of 
myself; and, although he has read the book 
a hundred times, he says he still finds, new: 
interest in its pages." 

"There have been but few histomal 
minds ; that is, among the many who have- 
written, few have handled the subject 
with success," said the strange gentleman. 
" Fine writing you may find everywhere ; 
genius you may find everywhere ; but the 
historian requires something more. He 
should understand men ; possess the pow- 
er to analyze motives, as well as to enu- 
merate effects. His must, indeed, be a 
mind of many and rare qualities, which en- 
circles poetry, learning, philosophy, and 
political acumen ; for he who would suc- 
ceed in historical writing must be a poet, 
qui nascitur, non fit ; a man of learning, 
qui fit, non nascitur ; a philosopher, qui non 
fit nee nascitur ; and a man, especially a 
politician, qui nascitur et fit. Yet all of his- 
tory, whether it comes in the legitimate 
form of a Thucydides, a Tacitus, an Abul- 
feda, a Machiavelli, a Mariana, a Ferreras, a 
Thuanus, a Clarendon, and a Hume ; or ia 
the more questionable shape of a Herodo- 
tus, a Nepos, a Khondemir, a PiUgar, a Ze- 
noras, a Comines, and a Froissart; or with 
the tittle-tattle garrulity and old granny- 
ism of a Plutarch, a Maximus, a Vopis- 
cus, a Procopms, a Turpin, and a Smollett, 
is the mirror of truth. The immutable past 
is its theme ; the changeable present, the 
dubious future, it scorns to place upon its 
truth-telling page. The present it leaves 
to the prejudiced writer of the memoirs of 
a party ; the sycophantic biographer of liv- 



fect conceptions of ideal beauty which an- ing greatness; the credulous traveller into 
imale the Venus and the Apollo — " distant lands, and the fantastic sketcher of 

" And which slowly but surely corrode ' living manners. The future ; where is it? 
the virgin chastity of her who gazes upon | The Chaldees ! the Egyptians ! the jug- 
their voluptuous forms," said the strange glers ! vain pretenders; it is their history : 



gentleman. 



* "The ancients," says Hazlitt, speaking of the 
Greek statues, " excelled in beauty of form. The in- 



thou teachest the present by the past, and 
foretellest that which is to be by that which 
has been." 



terest which they excite is, in a manner, external ; ance, joined with e.-tquisite symmetry, and refined 
it depends on a certain grace and lightness of appear- susceptibility to voluptuous emotions." 

H 



«S8 



NEW ORCEANS as I FOUND IT. 



" And can I not prove that all are a part 
of the study you love ?" said Leonie. " The 
venom of the writer of memoirs is the acri- 
mony of his party ; the adulation of the 
biographer is the corruption of his age ; the 
marvellous of the traveller is the ignorance 
of his readers ; the fantasy of the sketcher 
is the sickly taste of a morbid refinement ; 
and the Chaldee, who reads the distant 
stars, the Egyptian, who traces the lines 
upon our palms, and the juggler, who min- 
gles his cups, are emblematic of a rude and 
superstitious people. But its sphere is still 
wider; for its subject is man, and embraces 
all that acts upon him, or he, in return, acts 
upon," continued Leonie, her dark eyes 
kindling with animation, while all her fea- 
tures beamed with an intelligence which 
subdued the voluptuous expression they 
wore when at rest. " It is philosophical ; 
for man has created a philosophy which 
has ascended to his origin, laid bare the 
causes of his advancement and retroces- 
sion, and made known his final end. It is 
learned, for man is learned ; learned in the 
usages of the past, learned in its literature, 
learned in its politics, and learned in its 
science ; a learning which has reacted upon 
its possessor, and produced eflects which 
it is its province to chronicle, that after- 
times may ascend from them to their 
causes. It is poetical, for man is poetical ; 
his existence is poetry, and his passions 
are its expression; the twinkling star, the 
fiery sun, the gentle moon, the blue arch 
of heaven, vapour and cloud, the mountain 
top, the extended plain, the broad ocean, 
river, torrent, and rill, tree and herbage, all 
are poetry ; and the balmy air, which is 
around all, above all, and beneath all, is 
also poetry ; acting upon man, affecting 
his being, refining his nature. It is criti- 
cal ; for man is a critic, extracting from 
surrounding objects the forms of beauty, 
of strength, of majesty, of grandeur, and 
of sublimity ; and imbodying them in mar- 
ble, upon canvas", and in language." 

" Leonie, you have conquered ; poets, 
orators, philosophers, and historians, all 
are yours," said the strange gentleman, 
rising from his seat, well pleased with the 
enthusiasm with which his fair antagonist 
had urged her argument ; " history is 
sometiiing more than a barren catalogue 
of events, and he who is ignorant of the 
manners, costume, religion, literature, and 
private life of the people w-hose story he 
writes, wants the key to all its mysteries, 
finds an enigma in every character, and 
will search in vain for the causes of the 
elfects he enumerates ;" and drawing a 
string of pearls from his pocket, he put 
them about her neck. " I reserved them 
for an occasion like this," said he, " when 
the gift might seem more the reward of 
intellect than of love. Let us return to i 
the drawing-room, Leonie, and you shall 



discourse to our guest in a language yet 
more eloquent, which speaks to the eye, 
is superior to painting and statuary, and is 
only not higher than music or poetry." 

" John alludes to the dance," said Leo- 
nie, examining the pearls in a small mir- 
ror which a slave presented for that pur- 
pose. "Dancing, he says, is coexistent 
with language, if not the elder-born, and 
is equally a medium for the interchange 
of thought — in some respects inferior, 
but in many much superior to its more 
popular rival. Adapted to the expres- 
sion of the higher and more severe, as 
well as the softer sentiments, each mo- 
tion, like the articulations of speech, is an 
emanation from the mind, more or less 
perfect, possessing more or less of grace, 
energy, or grandeur, and, consequently, 
more or less significant, in accordance 
with the intellectual excellence of the art- 
ist by whom it is exhibited. Motion is 
not more evanescent than sound, and if 
painting and statuary could do as much for 
the dance as the invention of the alphabet 
has done for language, its influence would 
be as permanent." 

" Leonie has correctly translated my 
ideas into words, she shall now illustrate 
them by action," said the strange gentle- 
man, gently inserting his arm about the 
beautiful brunette's waist, and leading the 
way to the apartment I first entered. 

Leonie walked to the centre of the room ; 
the strange gentleman handed me to a seat, 
and then threw himself upon a sofa, assu- 
ming a reclining position, so as best to sur- 
render himself to the half intellectual, half 
sensual pleasure which springs from the 
poetry of motion. A young female slave, 
whose personal charms would have been 
acknowledged by that portion of the human 
family which delights in a sooty complex- 
ion, sat on a cushion upon the floor, with 
her feet drawn up and crossed after the 
Oriental style ; a small French lute* rested 
upon her lap. She was the musician ; and 
the quiet, easy assurance with which she 
bore herself, showed that she was used to 
the part she was required to perform, and 
that it was her peculiar office in the strange 
gentleman's household. Leonie stood for 
a few moments motionless, her hands rest- 
ing at her side, her head bent slightly for- 
ward, and her eyes cast modestly down, 
as if waiting that inspiration which alone 
stirs the powers of genius in whatever de- 
partment of the knowledge or arts of life 
they may be exerted. How like a sibyl 
of the ancient days, waiting the advent of 
the mysterious influence which was to in- 
vest her with superior gifts, did that beau- 
tiful woman then look. The slave fasten- 
ed her eyes intently upon her mistress ; 



* The Saracens, to whom we are indebted for the 
invention of the Inte, considered it the most beauti- 
ful of all instruments. 







/I 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



59 



Leonie raised her head— the slave struck 
the hue ; it was an air from the ballet of 
" The Judgment of Paris." Leonie moved 
over the floor the queen of the gods. 
"Vera incessu patuit Dea." 

The proud competitor for the reward of 
beauty was there ; noble in every step, 
stately, relying for victory more upon her 
rank above the powers of Olympus than 
upon those external allurements of form 
which had been great enough to conquer 
Jove. Dignity and grace in every move- 
ment — blended together— striving joyously 
with each other— the weaker and more ef- 
feminate subdued by the stronger quality. 
*' She did not sue for, but demanded the 
golden prize : if she had assented to the 
contest, it was from humour, or the certain- 
ty of success, and not because any claims 
she might assert could be questioned by 
mortals or immortals of inferior birth." I 
did not know that motion could say so 
much : it said all this, and more. The ap- 
ple was hers ; I would have given it to her, 
and half rose from my seat to make the 
award. 

The strange gentleman lay, still recli- 
ning, his eyes following the extraordinary 
being, who passed before him seemingly 
scarce of earth : the expression of his face 
was rest, quietness ; for his mind drank, 
without emotion, of an enjoyment to which 
it had become used. 

The air changed, and Leonie was the 
mother of love as she rose from the wave, 
pure, in all her virgin modesty, as she af- 
terward sprang from the hands of Praxite- 
les, blushing, trembling, frighted at the kiss 
of the air which surrounded her. Grace 
now obtained the mastery, and avenged it- 
self. Half retiring, half advancing, she 
pleaded her cause the more eloquently, be- 
cause she seemed to fear to plead it. Ev- 
ery gesture, while it strove to win the good 
opinion of the judge, deprecated the anger 
of her rival. " She had not sought the tri- 
al ; she would have avoided it, had she not, 
even from her birth, been pronounced the 
paragon of beauty ; she was compelled to 
sustain the judgment of the gods." The 
dance said this too ; but there was an un- 
der-tone, a whispering in the ear of Paris, 
which urged arguments of persuasion more 
irresistible than the faultless person — she, 
with well-feigned reluctance, exposed na- 
ked, unencumbered even by the girdle, to 
the eye of earth. The trees saw her, the 
hill upon which she stood, the bright orbs 
that travelled their courses in the blue 
empyrean, the cloud which encircled the 
court like a wall, hiding its mysteries from 
the curious who watched upon the towers 
of Ilium, saw her, and she shrank from 
the exposure. Woman mingled with di- 
vinity, and mortality triumphed. She ad- 
dressed the passions ; her large, liquid eyes 



danced to the soft measure of the music , 
every motion distilled love, and told the son 
of Priam that Venus, the Aphrodite, would 
willingly expire upon the lips of the fairest 
of the youth of Troy. She conquered. 
The strange gentleman pronounced the 
judgment. 

" Venus is greater than Juno among mor- 
tals ; her reign is from the beginning, and 
will continue unto the end. All that is of 
earth is hers ; even the soul, that higher 
principle, surrenders itself, not displeased, 
to the chains which her roseate fingers 
fasten upon it." 

The music again changed, and Leonie 
hovered over us as La Sylphide, the most 
ethereal of all the creations of fancy, a spir- 
it of air, how light, just rising, ever threat- 
ening to mount to a more attenuated and 
congenial atmosphere. In her met all that 
poets have imagined, or the credulous be- 
lieved, of those shadowy beings which, too 
pure for earth, too gross for heaven, ride 
upon a moonbeam, and pillow their heads 
upon the down of sleeping flowers. How- 
perfect, how exuberant ol ^race, how ex- 
quisitely beautiful was each attitude ; like 
the prismatic colours of the dew-drop glit- 
tering in a rising sun, changing with the 
rapidity of thought, each worthy to be 
caught in marble and made immortal, each 
rivalling the master-works of art, all com- 
posing a series which the united excellence 
of Italy's statuary would not parallel ; 
while her many-twinkling feet passed 
through the transitions with an ease we 
wondered not of, for their hold was upon 
air. On how lofty an eminence shall we 
place an intellect which can thus create, 
instantaneously and without end, forms of 
such infinite sweetness and variety of con- 
tour ! 

Again the music changed, and again did 
Leonie undergo another transformation. 
The demi-divinity of the sylph fell from her 
like a garment, and she stood forth a wom- 
an — full, ripe, glorious woman — woman as 
she is found upon the sunny plains of 
Castile, born for dalliance. The castanets 
were upon her fingers, and she moved 
through the intoxicating maze of Spain's 
most national, most voluptuous dance, La 
Cachuca. The loftier, but colder charms 
of intellectuality were exchanged for the 
softer characteristics of the Spaniard and 
the Moor. La Cachuca ! it was all that 
passion ever said, all that passion ever 
wrote ; now pure as the aspirations of Pe- 
trarch, and now glowing with tlie ques- 
tionable warmth of Anacreon — the coquet, 
the tempter — with more than a maid's coy- 
ness, and with more than the boldness of 
Phryne. There he lay, the stranger, like 
an Eastern sensualist, stretched upon silken 
cushions, while dancing girls swim before 
his dreamy sight, assuming as they move 
such postures as may best rouse his flag- 



60 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ging passions, and stimulate to new acts 
of love. Leonie approached with that 
short, quick, sidelong, rolling, ambling step, 
which, when once seen, is never to be for- 
gotten : it was the voluptuous of motion. 
She sank upon the floor before him, threw 
back her head, and, raising her arms, wove 
them into a wreath which floated upon the 
air like the circle of Urania, while the 
merry castanets rang out a peal of joy : 
intextas habebat cupiditates, voluptates, 
delicias, illicebras, suspiria, desideria, ri- 
sas, jocos, blanda verba, gaudia, jargia, et 
hujusmodi, quibus araatorum vita constat. 
The smouldering fire burst into flame : a 
storm now swept over his late quiet face, 
the flush of desire came and went like 
shadows of summer clouds chasing each 



other, and every nerve trembled with emo- 
tion. The picture was complete. 

****** 

" I cannot wonder," said I, as I entered 
my host's carriage at the foot of the long^ 
stairway ; " I cannot wonder that for you' 
society has no attractions, since you pos- 
sess more than it can give, in one who 
is—" 

The strange gentleman did not finish the 
sentence. 

****** 

" Boy," said I to the slave, as I alighted' 
at my hotel, "who is your master?" 

" Massa Jack !" 

And this was all I could learn of the 
strange gentleman. 



DAY THE THIRD. 

" My relation, because quite clear of fable, may prove less delightful to the ear. But it will afford suffi- 
cient scope to those who love a sincere account of past transactions, of such as in the ordinary vicissitude 
of human affairs may fully occur, at least be resembled again." — Thucvdides. 

" Mendez Pinto, though one of the most fabulous among the travellers of these latter times, has yet pre- 
served many important facts," — Modern Universal History. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE COURTS. 

" Who so vpon himselfe will take the skill 
True justice unto people to diuide, 
Had need of mighty hands to fulfill 
That, which he doeth with righteous doome de- 
cide, 
And for to maister wrong and puissant pride." 
Spenser. 

"The place of justice is a hallowed place; and 
therefore not only the bench, but the foot-pace, and 
precincts, and purprise thereof ought to be preserved 
without scandall and corruption." — Bacon. 

ARGUMENT. 

Judicial System of Louisiana. — The Young Lawyer 
at his Chambers. — His Character and Personal 
Appearance. — Equality of Remuneration of the 
Northern and Southern Practitioners.— The Law- 
yer's Library. — V'"^\ and Common Law. — Su- 
preme Court. — The Inferior Courts. — Multiplicity 
of Languages. — The Bar. — Criminal Court. — Dis- 
trict Court.— A Suit at Law. — The Parish Court. 
— John Gravien. — Ensurance. — Court of Probates. 
— Practice. — Oceanus. 

On the morning following my introduc- 
tion to the household of the strange gen- 
tleman — having first, as I have before inti- 
mated, followed Anna to the grave — I call- 
ed upon the lawyer at his office, for the 
purpose of accompanying him on his 
rounds in the courts. He had promised to 
act as my cicerone, and to aid me in gain- 
ing some knowledge of the judicial system 
of a state which is as unique in its laws, 
and their practical application, as in the 
character of its population. Based upon 
the labours of the Roman jurists, they par- 
take largely of the modifications which the 
wisdom of Caius, Papinian, Ulpian, and 
Paulus has been made to undergo in order 



to adapt it to the genius of modern barbar- 
ism and modern civilization as found du- 
ring the last seven centuries upon the Con- 
tinent of Europe, and more especially in 
the kingdoms of France and Spain. Ex- 
hibiting, too, many traces of innovation 
springing from the laws of the Anglo-Sax- 
on race, introduced by immigrants from 
what are here called the common-law 
states, the whole structure is a sort of mo- 
saic work, not the less durable, nor less 
fitted for the ends proposed, because the 
materials composing its several parts were 
cut from diflTerent quarries. -Such a body 
of laws discovers, at least, a wonderful 
spirit of compromise, and says much for 
the good feelings of the heterogeneous pop- 
ulation of the state, and the durability of 
its institutions. 

I found my friend surrounded by his cli- 
ents ; for in New Orleans a young lawyer 
may have clients ; and it is not necessary 
that he should pass through a dishearten- 
ing novitiate of two lustrums before being 
thought capable of holding a brief. He 
was tying up his papers with what Lord- 
chief-justice Somebody said was the sine 
qua non of a lawyer's success — red tape ;. 
and as he contributed much to my happi- 
ness, and will be hereafter often intro- 
duced to the notice of the reader, I cannot 
do better than give a short description of 
his person, togcthcv with such leading 
traits in his character as will render him 
more familiar to those who, if they follow 
me through these pages, will show me the 
courtesy to love what I love. 

To find one who is worthy of our affec- 
tions is the best gift of life ; and such was 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



61 



the lawyer. He was a young man of about 
twenty-five years, of a tall, thin person, 
slender make, with blue eyes, high cheek 
bones, a Grecian nose, slightly inclining to 
Enghsh, an exceptionable mouth, the chin 
of a sensualist, dark auburn hair, and a 
forehead which, rising full and round, fell 
suddenly back, betraying the promise it 
had given, and exhibiting no extraordinary 
development of the higher faculties. In 
disposition he was as mild as a spring 
morning in the month of May, when blos- 
soming trees smile upon the Giver of all 
good, and little birds send up from their 
topmost twigs songs of unalloyed joy. 
He loved everybody and everything; Heav- 
en knows how he happened to select a 
profession so ill calculated to foster such 
a temper. If he had enemies — and who 
has not ? — he had the satisfaction of know- 
ing that their hatred was without justifica- 
tion, and commiserated rather than re- 
sented the error into which they had fall- 
en ; thus, stained with many of the foibles 
of humanity, he was, without any preten- 
sions to religion, more than half a Chris- 
tian. 

His mental, like his moral qualities, were 
of a gentle character; without severity, 
nor exhibiting much of energy in their ac- 
tion. Educated at the first of our univer- 
sities, he was much given to books, placing 
his delight in the older English dramatists, 
as Marlowe, Webster, Decker, Ford, and 
Massinger, with their more than half 
brothers, the Chroniclists. He was a 
man of sympathies — one whom the out- 
ward forms and appearances of matter 
much affected : a circumstance which he 
turned to account in rather an odd way, 
and was thus enabled, by the power of as- 
sociation, to live in times long since pass- 
ed, and to enjoy the scenes depicted upon 
the pages of history as if he himself was 
an actor in the events he read. You might 
sometimes find him at his rooms of a Sat- 
urday evening, after the business of the 
•week had cleared away, sitting with a vol- 
ume of old Ben Jonson, or, perhaps. Sir 
Walter Raleigh's History, in his hand, lost 
to the life around him, and looking, for all 
the world, like a resuscitation from the 
grave of centuries. 

In his ordinary toilet he was neat, with- 
out anything like ornament, excepting a 
broad, plain gold ring, which he wore upon 
the third finger of his left hand, the pledge 
of a love long since broken, and a massy 
gold pencil-case, set with a cornelian, 
which projected conspicuously from his 
vest pocket. During the warm months, 
when it is the fashion here to dispense with 
the vest, the eye of an observer might be at- 
tracted by two heavy gold suspender-buck- 
les, which proved that their bearer carried 
weight, and set off to advantage the snow- 
wliile braces to which they were attached ; 



and sometimes a large gold chain, and cor- 
responding ponderous seal, hung from his 
watch ; adornments which he usually dis- 
pensed with, and never assumed excepting, 
as he said, when he felt unusually poor. 
There was another peculiarity about the 
dress of my friend, which sometimes led 
to ludicrous mistakes ; when in the streets, 
he always wore spectacles ; at his rooms, 
never. So that a casual introduction in 
one place would not enable you to recog- 
nise him in the other. 

Those who are acquainted with the 
straitened circumstances of my young 
friend's brethren during their apprentice- 
ship in other cities, will draw, from the 
cursory description which I have here 
given, conclusions favourable to the pro- 
fession in New Orleans; and many facts, 
which I shall hereafter set forth, will tend 
to confirm such an opinion ; but as it is 
generally found that the goods and evils 
of this world are pretty equally distributed, 
so, where most money is received, most is 
necessarily expended, and, at the close of 
a twelvemonth, the northern practitioner 
will probably find as large a surplus in his 
pocket as will his seemingly more pros- 
perous brother of the South. If the sum 
laid up, forming the " capital" of life, is the 
true test of success, which is to be farther 
graduated by the wants it will supply in 
the country in which it is used, we may 
safel}^ conclude that, at the close of a series 
of years, the northern lawyer will prove to 
be a richer man than he who has received 
more, expended more, and is in possession 
of only the same numerical wealth. 

The lawyer welcomed me to his ofliice. 
For one so young in the practice, it was 
well supplied with what the profession 
term, by way of eminence, "The Books," 
or ««t' tSoxnv ; a department in learning 
which, if we confide in the eloquent eulo- 
gium of one of its most brilliant ornaments, 
is " worthy of being studied even by schol- 
ars of taste and general literature, as being 
authentic memorials of the business and 
manners of tlie age in which they were 
composed. Law reports," continues Chan- 
cellor Kent, " afb dramatic in their plan 
and structure. They abound in pathetic 
incident and displays of feeling. They are 
faithful records of those little competitions, 
factions, and debates of mankind that fill 
up the principal drama of human life ; and 
which are engendered by the love of power, 
the appetite for wealth, tiie allurements of 
pleasure, the delusions of self-interest, the 
melancholy perversion of talent, and the 
machinations of fraud." The office was 
otherwise furnished with not only the ne- 
cessary garniture of sucli an establishment, 
but with many things which looked strong- 
ly towards ease, if not the less pardonable 
weakness of luxury. 

While my friend was listening to the 



62 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



thrice-told tales of his clients, probing the 
testimony they offered to sustain their alle- 
gations, and giving opinions which were 
received as oracles, I ran my eye hastily 
over the contents of his library, induced 
by a curiosity to learn in what it diftered 
from those I had examined elsewhere, in 
places which " continue wedded to the use 
of the common law." I found its works 
upon the legal science, as well as the lan- 
guages in which they were written, as 
mixed as the people among whom he found 
his patrons, or the sources from which 
their jurisprudence is drawn. The per- 
spicuous style, philosophical arrangement, 
and plain common sense of the marvellous 
Cujus stood side and side with the involved 
periods, undigested learning, and pedantry 
of Coke. Merlin was superior to Bacon 
in the number and cumbersomeness of his 
tomes, and Pothier, the Fenelon of law- 
yers, stood quietly by Blackstone, his su- 
perior in elegance of diction, his inferior 
in the perception of the principles of jus- 
tice. Las Siete Partidas, and Chitty's 
Pleading, Murillo's Cursus Juris Canonici, 
Hispani et Indici, and Starkie on Evidence, 
the whole body of the Corpus Juris Civilis, 
with its interminable commentators, and 
the Elementary Treatises of the English 
Lawyers, the " Arrets"* of Dalloz and of 
Tirey, and the reports of the Sister States, 
Emerigon, Benecke, Stevens, Bowlay, Pety, 
Frebrero, and Jacobson's Sec. Laws, Cor- 
vinus and Perezius, with hundreds of for- 
eign and uncouth titles, deployed rank and 
file before me, themselves seemingly won- 
dering at their own juxtaposition, and the 
strange judicial organization of a country 
"whose jurisprudence is a patchwork of 
laws and opinions drawn from opposite 
sources, and imbued with principles both 
of liberty and despotism. What can be 
more antagonistical in their nature than a 
system of civil rules based upon the codi- 
fications of a courtiftr lawyer, acting under 
the commands of the most tyrannical, un- 
grateful, mean, and debased of monarchs, 
who, according to a contemporary histori- 
an, sold equally his judgn^nt and his laws,| 



* " Les decisions des cours souveraines s'appellent 
Arrets" says M. Dupin, '' parceque, iretant pas sus- 
ceptibles d'etre reforinces siir appel par iin tribunal 
superieur, elles mitlent ordinairement fin aux proce's, 
et arr^lent toutes contestations ulterieures entre les 
parties." 

t •' Far be it from me," says Sir William Black- 
stone, " to derogate from the study of the Civil Law, 
considered (apart from any binding authority) as a 
collection of written reason. No man is more thor- 
oughly persuaded of the general excellence of its 
rules, and the usual equity of its decisions, nor is 
belter convinced of its use as well as ornament to the 
scholar, the divine, the statesmen, and even the com- 
mon lawyer. But we must not carry our veneration 
so far as to sacrifice our .'Alfred and Edward to tho 
manes of Theoilorus and Justinian : we must not 
prefer the edict of the praetor, or the rescript of the 
Koman emperor, to our own immemorial customs, 
or the sanctions of an English Parliament ; unless 



and " that product, not of the wisdom of 
some one man, or society of men, in any 
one age, but of the wisdom, counsel, ex- 
perience, and observation of many ages 
of wise and observing men," to be found 
in the Reports of P^nglish Judicial Deci- 
sions — the decisions of a tribunal "which 
have been almost uniformly distinguished 
for their immaculate purity !"* 

When the last of the lawyer's clients 
had retired, I alluded to the heterogeneous 
character of his library, where the materi- 
als seemed to have been collected from 
nearly all the languages in which judicial 
science had been cultivated, observing that 
I should not be surprised to find upon its 
shelves the Laws of the Medes and Per- 
sians, in their original character, bound up 
in vellum, with the chops of the Chinese 
emperors. 

"There was a time," said the lawyer, 
"when the writings of the civilians, the 
codes and recopilacions of Spain, the four 
hundred and thirty-eight coutumes of 
France, the labours of Justinian, and the 
Ordinances of O'Reilly were, more or less, 
the law of the state ; but since the great 
repealing clause of 1828, abrogating all the 
civil laws which were in force before the 
promulgation of our civil code,f these 
books were referred to in argument as the 
depositories of reason, and sometimes en- 
able an advocate to sustain an opinion with 
a corresponding judgment of the wise. 
The Creole and French practitioners, who 
have been educated under the civil system, 
and are, for the most, part, ignorant of the 
common law — of the practical common 
sense of our elementary writers, cite the 
civilians, and we, of English descent, per- 
haps equally ignorant of the excellences 
of the French jurists, answer them with 
references to our reporters. But this mon- 
grel state of things, which renders law un- 
certain, and its administration unsatisfac- 



we can also prefer the despotic monarchy of Korne 
and Byzantiuin, for whose meridians the former 
were calculated, to the free constitution of Britain, 
which the latter are adapted to perpetuate." 

* Chancellor Kent. " Every person," says the 
writer above quoted, "well acquainted with the con- 
tents of the English Reports, must have been struck, 
with the unbending integrity and lofty morals with 
which the courts were inspired. I do not know where 
we could resort, among all the volumes of human 
composition, to find more constant, more tranquil, 
and more sublime manifestations of the intrepidity of 
conscious rectitude. If we were to go back to the 
iron times of the Tudors, and follow judicial history 
down from the first page in Dyer to the last page of 
the last reporter, we should find the higher courts of 
civil judicature generally, and with rare exceptions, 
presenting the image of the sanctity of a temple, 
where truth and justice seem to be enthroned and to 
be personified in their decrees." 

t That all the civil laws which were in force be- 
fore the promulgation of the civil code lately promul- 
gated be, and are hereby aiirogated, except so much, 
of title tenth of the old civil code as is embraced in 
its third chapter, which treats of the dissolution of 
communities or corporations. — La. Acts of 1S28. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



63 



tory, is fast passing away. The act of 
18'28 has prodaced great changes ; and its 
influence is still at work, growing stronger 
with success. The common law, through 
the medium of state legislation, the immi- 
gration of citizens of the sister states, the 
immigration of advocates educated in its 
principles, the consequent growing knowl- 
edge of its worth, is fast gaining the as- 
cendency ; and I hope to see the time when 
our codes — a crude, undigested mass of le- 
gal maxims and positive provisions — shall 
be themselves proscribed by a legislative 
clause as sweeping as is that which has 
driven from our courts a body of laws op- 
pressive from their bulk and their obscuri- 
ty, locked up, as they are, in languages 
unknown to our Constitution, and breath- 
ing a spirit hostile to its genius. There is 
. much in the civil law to admire ; there is 
w much in the civil law which the sages who 
^ raised the structure of the common law 
*>^' have borrowed ; but because a part is wor- 
. ^ thy of being received, we are not, therefore, 
^ to take the whole, or to adopt even the 
part, seamed and scarred as we at present 
hold it. The Civil Code of Louisiana is a 
•vj^' piebald work, made up of shreds of the 
T civil law, modified first by Spanish and 
'i r French decrees, again by our own legisla- 
~ tion, with not a little of the awkward, and, 
in many respects, senseless coutumes of 
the provinces of France." 
^ " You do not speak very favourably of 
y your laws," said L 

" Not, certainly, of their sources," said 
the lawyer ; " but if we have some cause to 
object to the laws themselves, we may be 
also permitted to complain of the cost of 
their administration ; which, from the enor- 
mous fees allowed our officers of justice, 
in many cases brings ruin rather than re- 
lief to the poor creditor. These things 
demand reform, and will receive it when 
the iSmerican population predominates 
throughout the state.* They will receive 
it, also, when the law is studied less as a 
means for acquiring wealth, and more as a 
science — looking forward mainly to the 
noble object of reputation ; when the stu- 
dent gives his nights to the pages of Ben- 
tham, and drinks deeply of the wisdom of 
that man who is to his profession what 
Bacon is to physical knowledge. He, per- 



* In the case of " Ellis Prevost et al.," 13 La., p. 
236, Rost, J., delivering the opinion of the court, 
says, '• The court cannot be ignorant of the mode in 
which our codes were prepared and became laws. 
They were written by lawyers, who mixed with the 
positive legislation definitions seldom accurate, and 
points of noctrine always unnecessary. The legis- 
lature modified and changed many of the provisions 
relating to the positive legislation, but adopted the 
definitions and abstract doctrine, without material 
alteration ; from this circumstance, as well as from 
the inherent difficulty of the subject, the positive 
provisions of our code ate often at variance with the 
theoreiical part, which was intended to elucidate 
them." 



feet in morals, strove to cleanse the Auge- 
an stable of the law ; and we turn from the 
contemplation of his labours, convinced of 
the truth of the words of Bolingbroke, and 
of their applicability to much that has 
been written, and which now cumbers the 
shelves of our libraries. Read Selden, 
read Grotius, read Cumberland, read Puf- 
fendorf, to mention no others, if you have 
leisure and patience for it ; and, after you 
have done so, I will appeal to you for the 
judgment I make. There are many curi- 
ous researches, no doubt, and many excel- 
lent observations, in these writers, but they 
seem to be great writers by much the same 
right as he might be called a great travel- 
ler who should go from London to Paris 
by the Cape of Good Hope." 

The lawyer picked up his papers secured 
with red tape, stowed them away in a ca- 
pacious side-pocket of his paletot, and, as 
it was Monday morning, when the judges 
of the Supreme Court read their decisions 
upon cases argued before them during the 
past week, and when he was desirous to 
learn the fate of some of his own suits, he 
first introduced me to the highest tribunal 
of the state. The court was held in the 
Capitol, a small two story, half-French, 
half-Dutch looking building, situated in the 
centre of a square of ground fronting on 
Canal-street. 

The court-room was small, and nearly 
filled by that portion of the bar whose busi- 
ness is of sufficient importance to be ad- 
judicated upon by the highest tribunal. I 
counted fifty — the elite — being, perhaps, 
one fourth of the profession : a calcula- 
tion which would give two hundred prac- 
tising attorneys to the city. When we 
consider that its litigation springs not, even 
in a greater part, from within itself, but 
proceeds from the whole valley of the Mis- 
sissippi, and those places at the North and 
East, and in Europe, with which New Or- 
leans transacts business, we must con 
elude that it is not as yet, like most of the 
other cities of our country, overrun with 
lawyers.* 

The court presented a truly venerable 
appearance. The presiding judge, a gen- 
tleman of some seventy-five years, at 
once one of the wealthiest men of the 
state — a wealth whose foundation was laid 
at the bar, and increased by the practice of 
the strictest economy — and one of the 
most eminent lawyers of our country, ex- 
hibited in physical aspect the beau ideal of 
an old i^nglish sergeant. A time-wora 
resident of the Inns of Court would feel 
young again to look upon him ; and, with 
so familiar an object before his eyes, would 
find himself at home, though removed 
three thousand miles from his chambers. 



* Since these pages were written the 
doubled. 



' bar" has 



64 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



My friend the lawyer, after moving the 
court in an easy, oft-hand way, for an or- 
der upon one of the inferior judges to show 
cause why a mandamus should not issue, 
requiring him to grant an appeal in a cer- 
tain suit wherein he was retained as coun- 
sel, took me under his arm for the purp'ose 
of visiting the forums of subordinate juris- 
diction. This thing of the mandamus, I 
found, was indeed so common as to be con- 
sidered a matter of course ; for no sooner 
had my friend filed his motion, than some 
half dozen others followed in his wake on 
a similar errand ; and, on subsequently call- 
ing his attention to the subject, he showed 
me that the Reports of the State were 
filled with instances of the issuing of that 
w^rit : a frequency which he explained by 
saying that the inferior courts were no re- 
specters of precedents, and usually re- 
tained their first impressions, unless they 
found other cause for change than a con- 
tradictory opinion of the appellate tribu- 
nal ; so that what Bacon says of it, " that 
it is now an established remedy, and every 
day made use of to oblige inferior courts 
and magistrates to do that justice which 
they are in duty, and by virtue of their of- 
fices, obliged to do," seems here to be veri- 
fied to the letter.* 

We next visited the building of which I 
have spoken in a former chapter, as situa- 
ted below and on the left of the Cathedral, 
with its fa?ade looking upon the " Place 
d'Armes." I was met upon the threshold 
by the hubbub of the law ; it was a perfect 
bedlam : the judges, jury, lawyers, clients, 
and loungers of five courts crowded togeth- 
er; three of them upon the same floor. The 
bustle of litigation kept up in all at one 
and the same time was, in its effects upon 
the ear, much similar to the clatter of the 
interminable machinery of an eastern cot- 
ton manufactory : a resemblance by no 
means diminished by a real exemplifica- 
tion of an error with which southern advo- 
cates are too often chargeable, in mistaking 
sound for eloquence. Of the five langua- 
ges most spoken in the city, two were here 
dominant, because those two were alone 
made use of by counsel in argument ; 
yet all were freely bandied about among 
the crowd which besieged the courts ; and 
I even detected one judge speaking in four 
different tongues in the course of a fifteen 
minutes' charge to a jury ! The advocates 
argued in French or English, according as 
one or the other was their mother tongue ; 
and if the Frenchman sometimes opened 
in the language of the Constitution out of 
courtesy to his opponent — a compliment 

* A judge who refuses to acknowledge the au- 
thority of "Decided Cases" as lound in the "Re- 
ports" of the " Decisions" of the highest tribunals, 
destroys the certainty of the law, delays its adminis- 
tration, and subjects the rights of suiters to the sole 
test of his own private opiruon. 



which the American always returned — he 
soon slid into the dialect most used to his 
lips : a piece of good sense which the 
American was equally willing to imitate. 
It may well be supposed that a judge who 
is not as great a proficient as was Mithri- 
dates or Al Tarabi in the knowledge of 
words, would not be thought capable of 
performing the duties of his office in New 
Orleans. 

Courts of law, the courts of original ju- 
risdiction, are certainly admirable schools 
for the study of humanity — perhaps not in 
its best features — yet there is more of 
comedy than of tragedy evolved in a hot 
dispute over the fragments of a broken 
contract. A student could not find a bet- 
ter locale for his purpose than this — to 
which I have introduced the reader — where 
all that engrosses our attention in life, our 
hopes, ambition, and energies, even life it- 
self, is discussed, adjuged, given, and ta- 
ken away ; where suitors, born under every 
sun, educated in different principles of gov- 
ernment, follow each other in rapid suc- 
cession, seeking redress in the equity of a 
body of laws which is a melange of all 
that each has at one time acknowledged to 
be his own. 

The lawyer carried over his own busi- 
ness for the day with a " continuance," 
and, taking a position which enabled us to 
observe the action of three courts, while 
listening to the eloquence of two others, 
he directed my attention to whatever was 
peculiar to the drama passing before us. 
The gentlemen of the bar, who were ex- 
tremely well dressed, exhibiting in many 
instances a toilet bordering upon foppery, 
embraced a larger proportion of j'oung 
men than are usually to be found in the 
higher courts of New York, Pennsylvania, 
and Massachusetts : a fact which, if it 
speaks in favour of the lucrativeness of 
the profession, says something, too, of the 
shortness of life in New Orleans, and of 
the mutability of its population ; neither 
favours the accumulation of business in a 
few hands, and both promote a willingness 
to intrust our interests to the care of the 
young, healthy, and energetic. If the vet- 
eran is enabled to retire at the close of his 
thirty years of service — a long period in the 
history of the city — it is to be feared that 
few are permitted to reach so honourable 
a distinction. 

" The court on our right," said the law- 
yer, " I scarcely need inform you, is one 
of exclusive criminal jurisdiction. The 
idle, the indigent, and the dissolute, un- 
shaved and unwashed, who crowd within 
its precincts, sufficiently designate its char- 
acter. Of the many who are there con- 
gregated, some have come to while away 
a vacant hour in sweet contemplation of 
the misfortunes of those who were but of 
late a part of themselves ; others, to inure 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



65 



their constitutions to the atmosphere of a 
pbice which they have good cause to sus- 
pect they will soon be called upon to visit 
in a different capacity ; and a few to watch 
the fate of a father or a son who may be 
this day arraigned before a jury of his 
country. The countenance and bearing of 
each individual tell you at once to which 
of the three classes I have enumerated he 
belongs ; so truly is nature beyond the 
reach of imitation. Comedy and tragedy 
are both every day more perfectly deline- 
ated in the bosom of society than within 
the walls of a theatre ; and he who does 
not acknowledge this truth, is not an ob- 
server of what is continually passing be- 
fore his own eyes. 

" The wretch who occupies the dock is 
about to receive the sentence awarded to 
the crime of ' striking with a deadly weap- 
on with an intent to kill ;' his predecessor 
was more fortunate. He struck with a 
surer aim, and was acquitted ; because, 
here, we are disposed to consider every 
act of personal violence as the conse- 
quence of a fair quarrel ; and his victim 
"Was too far removed from this world to op- 
pose the justice of the conclusion. 

" You will observe that the attorneys sit- 
ting within the bar are not so well dress- 
ed, and are, on an average, much younger 
in practice, as well as years, than those 
•who follow the civil courts ; for it is easy 
to distinguish a young from an old practi- 
tioner ; the novice mouths trifles as if they 
were matters of importance, and the hack 
handles matters of importance as if they 
were but trifles. In truth, they are mere 
beginners, who resort to that forum for the 
purpose of testing their strength. It is not 
diflicult to secure a retainer from a poor 
devil who is without the means of obtaining 
abler counsel ; and, perhaps, the exercise 
thus afforded the oratorical propensities of 
a young aspirant sufficiently compensates 
his labours. In a court of crimes, the at- 
torneys form a third estate, distinct from, 
and holding no sympathy with, the other 
two. The prisoner is all despair, praying 
for mercy ; the judge all compassion, tem- 
pered and restrained by justice; but the 
attorney, like the surgeon accustomed to 
the daily use of his knife, cool and collect- 
ed, unmoved by the heart-rending scenes 
which are continually passing before him, 
hoping for success oidy as it may advance 
his interests, thinks of but little besides 
himself. The client in a civil suit stands 
upon the same platform with his advocate; 
but the dock places an impassable gulf be- 
tween the prisoner and his counsel. 

" That court," continued the lawyer, 
" presents, in the jurisprudence of a people 
professing to be practical admirers of civil 
liberty, the strange anomaly of a single 
judge, who holds in his hands the honour, 
the liberties, and the lives of his fellow- 



citizens, without appeal even in matters 
of Liw ! ' Another method of preventing 
crimes,' says the Marquis of Beccaria, ' is 
to make the observance of the laws, and 
not their violation, the interest of the ma- 
gistrate. The greater the number of those 
who constitute the tribunal the less is the 
danger of corruption ; because the attempt 
will be more difficult, and the power and 
temptation of each individual will be pro- 
portionably less !' Our legislators never 
read the marquis's excellent little ' Essay 
on Crimes and Punishments.'* 

"We will now turn to the court upon 
our left. It has a territorial jurisdiction, 
which embraces six parishes, but takes 
cognizance only of civil matters. Like all 
our courts of original jurisdiction, the Dis- 
trict Court for our first judicial district is 
composed of one judge, a policy which 
loses in security more than it gains in 
energy. 

" Our rights ought never to be made fle- 
pendant upon the judgment of a single in- 
dividual. The minds of the best of men 
are so liable to be warped by prejudice or 
interest, or to be blinded by error, that 
checks and balances are as necessary upon 
the bench as in a division of the powers of 
a well-regulated government. A court of 
law should be so constituted as to com- 
mand the confidence of its suitors in its 
integrity and ability, so that even the losing 
party may leave its halls convinced that 
justice has been meted out to him, at 
least in as far as it is to be attained by 
means of the most perfect of human insti- 
tutions. Our ' appeal dockets' teach us 
that the great majority of litigants are not, 
nor ever have been, willing that their 
claims should abide the sole, unaided opin- 
ion of one judge, however eminent may be 
his reputation for honesty, legal knowl- 
edgejiand acumen. The history of juris- 
prudence in every country where the 
rights of the citizen have been consulted, 
sustains the principles I advocate. The 
High Court of Chancery of England does 
not afford an exception ; and it has been 
heretofore only in despotic countries, 
where the liberties of the subject are known 
but to be trampled upon, that courts were 
to be found possessing an unlimited juris- 
diction, and consisting of one man, whose 
will is law to the weak, and whose judg- 
ments are to be bought by the strong. 

" You may form some opinion of that 
court 'docket' from the fact that it sits 
every day in the week, Sundays excepted, 
during eight months of the year, and its 
clerk receives, for performing duties which 
are merel)- mechanical, and which, from 
the simplicity of our practice, require no 



X^ . \^ 



* A " Court of Errors and Appeals in Criminal 
Matters," having appellate jurisdiction, with power 
to review qviestions of law, was established by act, 
approved 5ih ApiiJ, 1813. 



66 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



previous and peculiar mental preparation 
beyond a common education, the moderate 
compensation of some twenty-five thou- 
sand dollars a year ; only five times the 
salary of the judge, whose physical labours 
are greater, and whose mental duties, to 
be faithl'ully performed, require years of 
toil and study 1 That system of legisla- 
tion which is parsimonious to the judge 
and extravagant to the clerk, reverses their 
true position, and pays the hands which 
work more than the head which plans. 
The salary of a judge should be sufficiently 
large to place him above the temptation of 
a bribe, and to secure for the ' bench' the 
most eminent talent at the ' bar ;' but a 
clerk's office draws more largely upon hon- 
esty than upon mind, and honesty is as 
often destroyed by great and unmerited 
gains as eaten out by want. The adminis- 
tration of justice should be speedy, certain, 
and cheap ; and the last requisite is not the 
least important of the three. Litigation 
should be taxed in an amount nearly suffi- 
cient to defray its necessary expenses ; so 
that large ' bills of costs' may not con- 
sume the substance of the debtor, and the 
creditor may not be deterred from the pur- 
suit of his rights through fear of entailing 
upon himself a debt greater than that 
which he desires to reclaim.* Law, as a 
science, and the courts, its administrator, 
are the result of civilization, and were 
meant to ensure, for a small premium, the 
property, the life, and the character of the 
citizen ; when we find the tax upon justice 
to have become so great as to be almost 
tantamount to its denial, it is time to re- 
turn to first elements, and, profiting by ex- 
perience, reconstruct the edifice anew. 
'AH human constitutions,' says Algernon 
Sidney, in his admirable Discourses on 
Government, ' are subject to corruption, 
and must perish unless they are timely re- 
newed, and reduced to their first princi- 
ples.' 

"The gentleman who is now arguing so 

earnestly," continued the lawyer, "and 

whose voice is to be heard, like the deep 

tones of Niagara, above all other noises, is 

. - here at the head of his profession. He is 

^^ a German, and emigrated in his boyhood 

• ^ 

* By act approved April 5, 1843, it is enacted, 
"That the fees and other emoluments collected by 
each officer, whose compensation consists in whole, 
or part, of fees of office, shall be applied as follows: 
first, to the payment of the expenses of the office, in- 
cluding the salaries of clerks or deputies ; second, to 
the payment of said officer's compensation, up to the 
sum of three thousand dollars, if so much shall re- 
main ; afid, third, the surplus, if any there be, shall 
then be divided between such officer and the state, 
in the proportion of one third to said officer and two 
thirds to the state " 

In what way is the poor debtor or the suitor ben- 
efited by the above enactment ? The same mon- 
strous tax upon justice remains; and the only change 
made is in the division of the spoils — and the state 
has reserved for itself the lion's share ! 



to this country. He is an extraordinary 
example of what may be done by perse- 
verance combined with energy. He uses, 
with equal fluency, all the dialects of Eu- 
rope, and no one among us has a more per- 
fect command of a language which, if, as 
Lord Bacon says, ' it is the richer for be- 
ing mixed,' is also, for the same reason, ac- 
quired with more difficulty than the inter- 
minable variations of the Chinese charac- 
ter. It may be said of that gentleman, as 
has been said of Quintius Scaevola, 'Ar- 
tem quae docet universam tribuere in 
partes — latentem explicare definiendo — ob- 
scuram- explicare interpretando — ambigua 
primum videre deinde distinguere — pos- 
tremo habere regulam qua vera et falsa 
judicarentur, et qua?, quibis positis, es- 
sent, quaeque non essent, consequential 
Hie enim attulit banc artem, omnium arti- 
um maximam, quasi lucem adea, quaj con- 
fuse ab aliis aut respondebantur aut ageban- 
tur ' The venerable, gray-haired old gen- 
tleman, who sits at the advocate's side, his- 
eyes fixed upon the speaker, his mouth, 
open, devouring each word as it falls fronx 
his lips, purchased, some twenty years- 
since, a sugar plantation upon the ' coast,' 
for which he paid a hundred thousand dol- 
lars. He was hardly warm in possession,, 
when, one pleasant morning, as he stood 
in his doorway, admiring the sloping rays 
of a rising sun which played about the 
green waving tops of his cane, as if they 
rejoiced over the wealth they were crea- 
ting, a leaner of moneys silently drew near, 
politely doflfed his hat, and quietly in- 
formed the old gentleman that he held a 
mortgage upon his grounds for twenty-fiv& 
tnousand dollars, which he would be very 
well pleased to see paid. The old gentle- 
man was so little acquainted with the ways 
of the world as to take offence at so rea- 
sonable a request : swore roundly that he 
had bought his place as clear of all encum- 
brance as his hand, and very awkwardly 
intimated to Shylock that he was the 
owner of a few very vicious dogs, which 
were much given to bite, and that there- 
fore it might be as well for his corporeal 
health if he should go as he came, without 
giving any extraordinary notice of his 
movements. The old gentleman was 
wrong. Shylock held a mortgage which 
had been overlooked, and was not noted ia 
the certificate given by the judge in whose 
office it was recorded. Shylock resorted, 
to the law; the old gentleman resisted, 
and, after five years of litigation, paid the 
mortgage, with interest, and five thousand 
dollars expended in counsel fees and costs 
of court. The loss of thirty thousand dol- 
lars was a heavy blow to a man of his prop- 
erty ; his vender became a bankrupt, died, 
and was buried long before the close of 
the lawsuit, and it required three good 
crops, managed with much economy, to 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



m 



replace him in his former posiiion. He 
had scarcely forgotten his losses, and re- 
turned to his ancient equanimity, when the 
widow of his vender, a nice, hale, buxom 
lady of thirty-five, discovering that the old 
gentleman was not a bachelor, thought it 
advisable to claim her dotal and parapher- 
nal rights of some fifty thousand dollars, 
which her poor husband had received and 
forgotten to account for, out of the planta- 
tion. Here was another mortgage — one 
of the tacit kind, which attaches and has 
its eflfect without registration, and is the 
more dangerous because it is quiet. ' Lex 
in omnibus tacitis hypothecis fingit pac- 
tionem et conventionem partium contra- 
hentium, quamvis expressa non fuerit, 
et est perinde ac si in veritate hypotheca 
ilia fuisset constituta per conventionem 
partium,' says Megazantius. The old 
gentleman, who is a good man, and had 
learned something during his late com- 
monancy about the courts, would have di- 
vided his plantation with the widow, had 
not his friends, more kind hearted than 
wise, opposed equity to law, and persuaded 
him again to run the gauntlet through the 
halls of justice. At the close of another 
five years of litigation, the old gentleman 
did what he had proposed to do in the be- 
ginning — compromised with the widow — 
and paid five thousand dollars more to the 
attorneys and officers of court. The old 
gentleman's luck was surely none of the 
best ; but he is no heathen, and acknowl- 
edges the truth of the adage, that ' half a 
loaf is better than no bread;' so he once 
more smoothed down his rufiled feelings, 
and was content to send one hogshead to 
his factors where he before sent two. 
Great is the mutability of human affairs ! 
The old gentleman had become familiar 
with the prayer of Horace, 

" ' Modus agri non ita magnus, 

Hortus ubi, et tecto vicinus jugis aquae fons, 

Et paulum sylvae super his foret;' 
discovered that to be happy it is not necessa- 
ry to be rich — taken to reading Seneca, ' Si 
ad naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper; 
si ad opiniones, nunquam eris dives' — when 
the last and greatest of his misfortunes, 
that which is now pressing him down, and 
beneath which he will finally expire, insinu- 
ated itself into his presence under the form 
of a third process in the courts. The un- 
wary sailor, sleeping upon a smooth, sum- 
mer sea, and dreaming of everything save 
danger, hears not with more surprise the 
rush of the tornado which sinks ship and 
all a hundred fathoms deep, than did the 
good old gentleman the soft foot- fall of the 
law again upon his threshold. Decrepit, 
broken by former losses, he would have 
been content to live; but there could be 
now no compromise ; he was to fight for 
existence, for the claim swept all, and, like 
a worn-out warrior, he put on his armour, 



and went forth with tottering steps to do 
battle the last time for his rights. 

" The vender of the plantation had been 
twice married. His first wife died, leav- 
ing one child, a minor, and sole heir of her 
estate. After the dissolution of the mar- 
riage by death, the tutorship of the minor 
belonged, of right, to the surviving father. 
He was not required to give security for 
the faithful administration of his trust ; but 
the law gave the orphan a protection in the 
shape of a tacit and general mortgage upon 
the real estate of his tutor, then in posses- 
sion, or subsequently acquired. The mi- 
nor has attained his majority, and is now 
seeking to reclaim the amount of the dovy-- 
ry, and matrimonial acquits and gains of 
his deceased mother, which the father also 
forgot to account for prior to his death. 
He asks for one hundred and fifty thousand 
dollars ; his proof sustains the demand ; the 
old gentleman's already- contracted lands 
will pass from him, and even the nice, hale, 
buxom widow of thirty-five trembles lest 
she shall be compelled to secede before a 
prior mortgagee. 

" There he sits ; look at him. Hoary with 
age ; without children to smooth his silver 
locks, pour words of kindness into his 
ears, and sustain his weakness with their 
strength ; he puts his trust in what ? the 
eloquence of an advocate ! Does the speak- 
er feel as that old man feels % be hangs- his • 
ho{>es upon every word. Does the coupt.'^ 
feel as that old man feels \ its judgment 
takes away all he has on earth. Do the 
idlers about the bar feel as that old maa 
feels? he has a partner in his fortunes^ 
one who has climbed with him to the top- 
of the hill of life, and who has descended, 
with equal step, near to its base. She will 
go forth, his companion, again into the 
world: that aged couple, hand in hand, 
looking forward, not as before, when, in 
the prime of life, they saw pleasure and 
happiness dancing together in the distance, 
but to the grave, the common comforter, 
the place of certain rest, and rejoicings in 
their years, because these years have 
brought them nearer to their journey's end. 
That is what I call tragedy." 

The lawyer was moved by the picture he 
bad drawn, turned his face from me, and 
drew his hand across his eyes to clear his 
vision. 

" The court immediately before us," h» 
continued, resuming his character of cice- 
rone, " is the ' Parish Court,' for the Par- 
ish of New Orleans. Although of an equal 
jurisdiction, in matters of a civil nature, 
with that of which I have last spoken, it 
has a narrower territorial limit, and is, so 
far, inferior. It sits during an equal num- 
ber of months ; its docket is equally crowd- 
ed ; its clerk equally well paid; and if its 
judge is not equally learned, he is distin- 
guished for the possession of a large fund 



68 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



of common sense, which, being better than 
law, draws into his court all suits involv- 
ing titles to property of an extraordinary 
amount. It is the theatre of llie important 
and endless litigation growing out of the 
conflicting interests of those who claim to 
have succeeded to the rights of John Gra- 
vier ; a man to whose memory the bar of 
New Orleans owe a monument of gratitude 
for the unskilful and reckless manner in 
which he divested himself of an estate 
which, had it been managed with common 
prudence, would have secured to his heirs 
a wealth princes might envy. The larger 
and better portion of what is now the Sec- 
ond Municipality was formerly his planta- 
tion. He ploughed our most commercial 
streets, and owned to the Avater's edge, em- 
bracing that long, broad, noble reach of 
Levee, which is annually enlarged by the 
deposites of the Mississippi, and is now val- 
ued at ten millions of dollars. There is 
not, in the whole history of the rise of 
cities, a more wonderful instance of rapid 
increase in value of landed estate, nor a 
more instructive lesson of foolish prodigal- 
ity and strange want of foresight. It was 
then only necessary to look out upon the 
broad Mississippi to. read all that New Or- 
leans now is ; as it is now only necessary 
to turn to the same page to read all that 
New Orleans will be. What Marco Polo 
says of Sin-gui, is more than equalled by 
our city. 

" The small gentleman whom you see 
sitting at the table within the bar, looking 
over a big bundle of papers almost as large 
as himself, is a native of Bordeaux. You 
would know him for a Frenchman, from 
the ceaseless agitation of his nervous sys- 
tem, in consonance with the train of 
thought which is passing through his mind. 
He was once attached to the P'rench navy, 
and, with two others, embarked in a pin- 
nace of ten tons, on a wager that he would 
reach New Ori<^ans without touching at 
Davy's Locker. A man who has tlie cour- 
age to win against such odds, has the 
courage to do anything ; there is, therefore, 
no cause for surprise in his present position 
— a lawyer of distinguished and most lucra- 
tive practice — in advance of all who claim 
the same origin with himself The well- 
dressed, middle-aged, intellectual-looking 
gentleman who sits at his side is a mer- 
chant, who some few years since shipped 
a valuable cargo for a foreign port. It was 
safely insured in one of the offices of the 
city, and fairly lost by one of the perils 
covered by the policy, ' the detainments of 
princes.' The merchant accompanied his 
adventure. Although all ' the books' agree 
that the insured is never obliged to aban- 
don, but has his election, and may recover 
for a total or a partial loss, yet there are 
some cases, say they, where he will have 
HO claim against the insurer, unless he 



makes an abandonment — a specimen of 
legal ratiocination which the merchant 
may be pardoned for not comprehending. 
When, therefore, he should have folded 
his arms, and, as Mr. Justice Arhurst says, 
' sought the first opportunity to signify his 
election,' he inconsiderately put his shoul- 
der to the wheel, and laboured for the 
common benefit. After six months of toil, 
he discovered ' the detainments of princes' 
to be the greatest of the risks of the poli- 
cy, and returned to claim his insurance. 
But ' a corporation,' saith my Lord Coke, 
' hath no soul.' The company refused to 
indemnify, because he, in his haste to pro- 
tect the interests of others, had forgotten 
his own. The merchant was ruined. 
Within a few days thereafter, the com- 
pany itself suffered a great loss, declared 
itself bankrupt, and made an assignment 
of its assets for the benefit of those upon 
whose premiums it had lived. The day 
following the assignment, the meixhant 
received advice that the warring princes 
had become reconciled ; his goods, decreed 
to be restored, found a rising market, and 
doubled the adventure — the merchant is 
rich — and that is what I call the comedy 
of life. 

" The court upon our right," continued 
the lawyer, as, having changed our posi- 
tion, we stood within the colonnade which 
runs along the fa(;ade of the building, " is 
the Court of Probates. Its presiding offi- 
cer is distinguished for the possession of 
the first chief requisite in a'.judge : a de- 
termination U) do his duty, and the courage 
to back it. A short time since he killed 
three of five assassins who attacked him — 
at night, masked — in his own house, alone 
with his wife, because he would not recon- 
sider and reverse a judgment which was 
unpopular with their humours. 

" Those who are familiar with the sim- 
ple practice known in similar courts at 
the North would wander, bewildered, amid 
the mazes of our forms : the putting on 
and the raising of seals ; the notarial in- 
ventories ; the appointment of curators 
of vacant estates, attorneys of absent heirs, 
tutors to minors, and sub-tutors to tutors ; 
the filing and homologation of tableaus ; 
the oppositions and interventions ; the 
judgments interlocutory, and the judg- 
ments final ; the exception, the appeal, and 
the reversal ; the calling of fatnily meet- 
ings, and the homologation of family pro- 
ces-verbals : the last two evils so great, 
that a gentleman, who unfortunately found 
himself the father of four orphan children, 
heirs of their deceased mother's estate, 
lately offered a large reward to anyone of 
the profession who would write an argu- 
ment against such troublesome provisions 
of our law. When we consider the great 
expense necessarily attendant upon the 
multifarious forms and intricate practice 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



69 



of that court, and the startling fact pro- 
niulged by Judge Porter, ' that every twen- 
ty-five years nearly all the property of the 
state passes through the Court of Probates,' 
we may well conclude that no small por- 
tion of the whole sticks by the way, and 
passes through different rivulets into other 
hands than those of its heirs. The estate 
of poor Solomon suffered its ordeal, and 
was sensibly diminished by the operation. 
Il was afterward taken to the Supreme 
Court of the State, then passed into the 
Circuit Court of the United States, was 
carried, upon error, to Washington, and 
has just returned to pass through a new 
series of litigation. The estate bears all 
costs — one thousand dollars paid to the at- 
torney for absent heirs, one thousand dol- 
lars to the attorney of the curator — the 
sack will be empty before the ink<#of the 
final decree is dry. Solomon's brother 
reckons without his host if he believes he 
will receive a rich legacy. 

" ' The mere form of bringing a question 
before a court,' says Maddock, ' is of itself 
a science, an art less understood, and more 
difficult to learn, than the construction and 
use of the most complicated macliine, or 
even the motions of the heavenly bodies.' 
The observation may be justly applied to 
our Court of Probates, whose jurisdiction 
is as undetermined as the misty substance 
of Ossian's spirits, through which the stars 
shone darkly." 

We looked into the court. The lawyers 
were busy, a| equal crowd filled the room, 
and among tire suitors I observed a boy of 
some fourteen years, who sat listening to 
the argument of an advocate with an in- 
tenseness and anxiety of countenance be- 
yond his age. A small dog stood upon the 
boy's knees with ears erect, nose thrust 
out, and eyes that followed each movement 
of the speaker as if he, too, had an interest 
in the case. I directed the lawyer's atten- 
tion to the group. 

" Ah !" said he, " that is young Oceanus ; 
he has just jumped into a fortune — that is, 
if he gets it — and is here asserting his title. 
I fear he will be some years older before 
he sees the end of his suit, and that the 
finale will strongly illustrate a passage to 
be found in Diderot's Story of ' Jacques the 
Fatalist.' ' Un limonadier,' says Jacques, 
' decede il y a quelque temps, dans nion 
voisinage, laisser deux pauvres orphclins 
en bas age. Le commissaire se transporte 
chez le defaut; on oppose un scelle. On 
leve ce scelle, on fait un inventoire, une 
vente ; la vente produit huit a neuf cents 
francs. De ces neuf cents francs les frais 
de justice preleves, il reste deux sous pour 
chaque orphelin ; on leur suit a chacun ces 
deux sons dans la main, et on les conduit 
k rh6pital.' The boy's story is a curious 
one ; I will relate it to you as it was told 
me by his uncle, a gentleman of Mobile." 



CHAPTER XVII. 



" For he that hath each star in heaven fixea, 
AikI gives the moon her homes, and her ec/ipsing, 
Alike hath made thee noble in his working." 

Wyatt. 

" Life's no resting, but a moving : 
Let thy life be deed on deed." — Goethe. 

" The childhood shows the man, 
As morning shows the day." — Milton. 

ARGUMENT. 
Oceanus's Birth.— Abaco. — The Sea. — Providence 
Channel. — The Soul. — Oceanus Bathing. — A 
Shark. — OceanusOverboard -The Rescue. — The 
Storm. — A Leak. — The Ship goes Down. — Open 
Boat Navigation. — Oceanus loo.ses his Mother. — 
Oceanus Adrift.— The old Tar of the Fife.— Ocea- 
nus and the Ocean. — Key-West. — Oceanus ar- 
rives at Mobile. — The Innamorata. — Oceanus finds 
a second Mother. — Oceanus claimed by his Uncle. 
— Oceanus's Learning. — Oceanus resolves to visit 
Cuba. — Oceanus puts to Sea. — Is arrested as a 
Pirate. 

SECTION I. 

"Young Oceanus came nto the world 
about half past four o'clock one stormy af- 
ternoon of the month of October, in the 
year 18-22, his mother then being midway 
the passage from Bombay to Liverpool ; a 
circumstance which gave the boy his name, 
and has since exerted a vast influence in 
moulding his character. Although it is not 
said that the gallant ship stood still in its 
course wheir so important an event trans- 
pired within its bowels, yet, in obedience 
to that mysterious sympathy which exists 
between all matter, and through matter up 
to mind, it moved easier upon- its track, 
and leaped over the tops of the curling 
waves with a joy which reflected that of 
the young mother, who was then listening 
to the low breathings of her first-born, and 
heard that sweet mu'^ic above the whistling 
of the winds and the dashing of an autum- 
nal sea against the oak which ribbed her 
about and shut out danger. How many 
hopes, reaching far into the depths of time, 
are concentrated in that first hour when 
the wife knows herself to be a mother! 
The tiny hands and tender arms of the in- 
fant are, to her vision, the full-grown limbs, 
Knit and ridged with muscle of thirty 
years ; strong, and able to sustain and pro- 
tect her. 'i'hose little features, expressive 
of nothing save the weakness of humani- 
ty, and that small swelling brow, are to 
assume the marked lines of manliood ; 
changing in youth with every feeling which 
sways by turns the mortal breast, and fixed 
in mature age by the one dominant pas- 
sion, which surrenders but to the grave. 
And what is he to be, in return for the 
pains she has borne, and the toils she is to 
endure in leading him up to the vantage 
ground of life] Imagination works, and 
builds a tower of expectations, while fancy 
weaves a web of brilliant colours, and cov- 



^■0 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



<^rs its walls with a tapestry glorious with 
scenes of triumph, of wealth, and of hon- 
our — a mother's hopes! bUnd, seeing not 
the evils which h;ing in the air around her, 
sJie possesses in that first hour a joy which 
is not the less real, not the less beyond ap- 
preciation, because its promises are false. 

" Oceanus was two years old when his 
mother, then a widow, changed in her for- 
tunes, embarked, a strange passenger, for 
America. The noble ship moved onward; 
the young Oceanus grew apace ; aud upon 
the thirtieth day of the voyage, the man at 
the mast-head cried out, 'Land, ho!' 

" It was Abaco ; the first land which the 
•sailor makes in entering from the north, 
the most dangerous navigation known to 
commerce, where the hardy seaman push- 
es bravely on, through a tortuous course, 
-winding his way among banks, islands, 
ieys, shoals, ancl rocks, beset thick with 
'iiidden aud apparent dangers, and boldly 
navigates an iron-boimd coast, whose 
shores, lashed with frequent tempests, are 
•everywhere covered with fragments of 
"wrecks, and white with the bones of the 
unfortunate. Were you ever at sea V 

" Often," said L 

"I aai sorry for it," said the lawyer; 
■'' for you have been disabused of a large 
part of those beautiful and sublime imagin- 
ings which fancy conjures into being, and 
the restless waters of the deep have lost 
to you more than half their poetry. There 
is sublimity in the vast expanse of the 
ocean ; but there is a monotony, too, which 
sorrows upon the eye, wearies the spirit, and 
■jfiiudly subdues the nobler feeling. The 
ceaseless swell, in calm as in storm, wave 
following wave, rising and falling in regu- 
lar succession, palls upon the mind sooner 
than the fixed stillness of the desert. The 
lofty summit of Mount*Washington, living 
in the regions of eternal cold, immoveable 
and unchanged from the beginning, wakes 
in the soul more of grandeur than the sea 
it looks upon. Its greatness we can partly 
comprehend ; its strength we can partly 
know. Like the giants of the air, whose 
walk is upon tlie glaciers of the Apennines, 
it fills, but does not overpower the mind. 
It is connected with and surrounded by' 
life. Its associations are of those things 
which the eye loves to dwell upon. Its 
barrenness, rugged, inhospitable, unculti- 
vated, is in harmonious contrast with the 
sunny fields which smile, half hidden, amid 
the valleys at its base, while mountain- 
stream and forest relieve and refresh an 
over-excited imagination. The land has 
more of poetry than the water. 

"The night was starry and bright when 
the ship bore through Providence Channel, 
due west by nortii, and Oceanus's mother, 
carrying him upon deck, held him up above ! 
the bulwarks, that he might see the light . 
which the banks there reflect into the air, 1 



like an aurora borealis springing upward 
from the sea. Oceanus made big eyes, 
leaped in his mother's arms, clapped his 
hands, and gave divers other signs of un- 
mixed joy. From that moment his spirit 
was wedded to the water ; a fact which 
was abundantly corroborated by a sudden 
attachment which the child soon after 
formed for a tar-pot, together with the ex- 
hibition of a corresponding morbid appetite 
for the chewing of oakum. 

" The soul is perfect, full grown at the 
moment of its creation ; the body is born 
weak and helpless ; and strength is mar- 
ried to imbecility. The mind, during its 
strange connexion with matter, exists un- 
der two states or conditions of being : the 
one, purely spiritual ; the other, modified 
by the gross material with which it is 
hemmed about, caged in, and restrained 
from giving outward evidences of those 
workings which are continually passing 
within itself. The composition, man, 
knows little of the soul in its simple state ; 
yet, at times, we catch a glimpse of its ac- 
tion, and startle at the maturity, clearness, 
and grasp of our own thoughts. Expe- 
rience, which comes with age, and what is 
called knowledge, is the victory which the 
soul gains over its earthly and perishable 
associate ; the power, which it acquires af- 
ter long toil, of making known to its com- 
plex existence what itself knew from Uie 
beginning. The object of all education 
should be to render matter subservient to 
mind, and those systems whigh attain this 
end most completely and raTOst readily, 
approved and adopted. These facts will 
explain why it is that Oceanus now says 
that his love of the sea was born of the 
bright light which he then saw springing 
up from its bosom, and justify him in say- 
ing that he has a vivid recollection of the 
compact then made between his spirit and 
the water. ^ 

" Oceanus doubled the Isaacs, and run- 
ning south to the Orange Keys, entered the 
Gulf, a stream which has puzzled the learn- 
ed from the day of its discovery to the 
passing hour. They dispute over its rise, 
and the laws of its progress, while naviga- 
tors are equally undetermined whether it 
most aids or injures commerce. There, 
Oceanus's mother, learning that the water 
within the stream was many degrees 
warmer than that which she had left, strip- 
ped him to the skin, put him into a basket, 
and let him down over the ship's side into 
the sea. She gave him a bath as a preserv- 
ative against the scurvy, which had made 
its appearance upon her own person. Poor 
creature ! she had fed upon salt junk during 
the whole voyage, and she feared he might 
have drawn in the disease with her milk. 

" The basket filled and dipped beneath the 
surface, and Oceanus was baptized in the 
element he loved. The little fellow was 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



71 



l3rge and strong for his age, and clamber- 
ing up the sides of his leaky vessel, he 
grrasped its rim, and danced and shouted 
for very happiness. Born upon the ocean, 
he had already enrolled himself among the 
x,mphibii, and could not help taking to the 
water, which he knew, in preference to the 
land, which, to his soft feet, was strange, 
■hard, and unyielding. The gentle fish of 
the great deep played around him, wel- 
coming his coming as one whom they were 
willing to crown their king. The porpoise, 
Delphinus phoccena, in shoals, outstrip- 
ping, in their course, the fleetest navies, 
gambolled, rolled, tumbled, and spouted in 
the distance, throwing up the brine like a 
cloud of steam, and exhibiting their white 
beUies, smooth, soft, glossy skin, porrect, 
depressed snouts, and big jaws, with forty 
curved pointed teeth upon a side, to the 
wondering eyes of Oceanus, who shouted 
again in acknowledgment of the homage 
which was paid him. The sturdy tars, who 
had already adopted Oceanus as one of 
themselves, and initiated the bantling into 
many of the mysteries of their craft, such 
as drinking smuggled grog out of the heel 
of an old boot, sleeping upon the watch 
with both eyes open, and purloining tit-bits 
from the caboose when the cook's back 
was turned, gathered upon the forecastle, 
ran up the shrouds, laughed, swore, and 
made the welkin ring with huzzas. One 
old Jack who was fond of music — and what 
true sailor is not] — drew a well-worn fife 
from his chest, walked amidships, where 
Oceanus's mother stood holding the line 
which gave her command over the frail 
bark to which she had trusted a freight so 
precious, and played a gentle tune, whose 
soft, melodious notes drew towards him 
the tumbling fish, and calmed their excited 
spirits, while they swam round and round 
in regular gyrations, moving to the meas- 
ure of the music, which charmed their lis- 
tening senses. The smaller tribes, seeing 
their destroyers, those who fed daily upon 
their fatness, suddenly assume a demean- 
our so docile, with a countenance of such 
meekness, believed the promised day had 
come, when the wolf should dwell with 
the lamb, and the leopard lie down with 
the kid, and the calf, and the young lion, 
and the fatling together, and a little child 
should lead them. They herded about the 
ship, leaped in its wake, kissed the rudder, 
played around the basket, tipped the water 
iwith their fins, and flashed back to the sun 
all the colours of the rainbow. Clouds of 
.flying-fish, Exocetus volitans, filled the air; 
not now frightened from their element, but 
springing from the grosser to the thinner 
iluid, pushed by the impulse of pleasure. 
One, of more temerity than the rest, or 
drawn by the silken cords of afl'ection, 
lighted upon young Oceanus's head, and 
fanned the air with its large, filmy, pecto- 



ral fins, till it lost its strength with its moist- 
ure, and fell exhausted back to its waves. 
The temperate breeze, the tranquil sea, the 
noble ship moving steadily onward without 
pitch or roll, conscious of the general jubi- 
lee, the mother's joy, the crew's merriment 
and triumph, the infant's innocent delight, 
the beauty and the happiness of the inhab- 
itants of the deep, the bright sun shining 
upon all — it was a scene the gods might 
have looked down upon and smiled ! 

" Does not winter follow summer, and 
the freezing blast of December the scent- 
ed breath of autumn] There is not a 
pleasure in the round of life which has not 
its sister — pain ; and every green and flow- 
ery spot of earth is but a point upon the 
broad surface of sterility. Such is the 
mystery of Heaven ! Oceanus's mother 
could not be always happy. The scene 
changed. The little fish fled dismayed. 
The dolphins, no longer charmed, left their 
gyrations, and tacked in and out with an 
equal movement, as if uncertain which 
way to seek safety. The look-out at the 
mast-head discerned the danger from afar. 
There was no mistaking the broad, sail- 
like dorsal fin of the most voracious of the 
monsters of the deep, ploughing the even 
surface of the sea. He shouted the alarm, 
' A shark ! a shark !' The crew caught the 
cry, ' A shark ! a shark !' The old, weath- 
er-beaten tar dropped his fifej.-sprang to the 
line, which the mother, paralyzed, held 
with an uncertain grasp, seized what then 
seemed a single thread, too frail to bear 
the weight of life it well protected before, 
and gently drew the unsuspecting, laugh- 
ing Oceanus from his play. But the bas- 
ket had scarcely cleared the water, when . 
the monster, certain of his scent, demand- 
ed his prey. The sea boiled around him 
like a caldron ; he ''rolled upon his back ; 
with one blow of his tail threw more than 
half his length into the air, seized the as- 
cending basket, and sank fifty fathoms 
deep into the chambers of his dwelhng- 
place. The mother fell lifeless upon the 
deck, and the hardy tars sent forth one 
common groan, followed quick with curses 
upon themselves, upon the ship, upon the 
sea, with all its fish, upon everything; 
swore they should recognise the monster 
at some future day, and would pursue him 
for his heart's blood from the tropics to 
the pole. 

" ' Heave the ship to !' roared the cap- 
tain. ' Let go the jib-sheets! Back the 
main-top-sail! Hard down your helm!' 
The ship, like a slave, obeyed its master. 
'Clear away the boat! Lower away! 
Trim aft the jib-sheets ! Stretch out !' 
And there he lay, the young Oceanus, float- 
ing upon the stream, and thinking of no- 
thing save the newness of his position, 
which he loved the better for being free. 
The old tar of the fife was the first to man 



72 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



the boat, and the first to rescue the general 
favourite ; bearing him aloft with shouts 
of triumph, and initiating his young ship- 
mate in tiie science of aerology through the 
diverse circles he made him describe above- 
his head. ' Hook on !' cried the captain. 
' Hoist away ! Right your helm ! Fill 
away the main-top-sail !' and the ship kept 
her course, southwest by south, to the 
double-head shot-keys. 

" When the shark closed his jaws upon 
the basket in which young Oceanus was 
disporting himself, the pUant material of 
which it was made yielded so readily to 
the pressure as to retain its elasticity, and 
the bottom bending inward, projected its 
burden with a happy velocity quite under 
the ship's counter. The monster, finding 
a sort of wicker-work wedged in about his 
teeth, which would neither be swallowed 
nor cast out, and which very much incom- 
moded the proper and comfortable stowage 
of his grinders — a shark lays back his ivo- 
ry when not in use, as a dog does his ears 
— concluded he had encountered one of 
the tricks which travellers are ever sub- 
ject to, and concealed his chagrin in flight. 
Oceanus was restored whole to his resus- 
citated mother ; all was well again ; and 
both soon returned to their former courses : 
Oceanus chewing oakum, besmearing him- 
self with tar and slush, and poking fun at 
the cook, and his mother devising new 
preventives against the scurvy. 

" On the second evening subsequent to 
the events just related, Oceanus was run- 
ning free, all sails set, under an eight knot 
breeze, due west-northwest, in the longi- 
tude of Key West. 
" ' Two bells !' cried the man at the helm. 
" The bells ushered in the second hour 
of the first watch. The sky was clear ; 
the gentle moon just peeping above the 
waves over the starboard quarter, and not 
yet old enough to dim the brilliancy of her 
sister stars, which burned above and around, 
thick set in th'^ garments of the night. 
Oceanus, in his mother's arms, walked the 
deck. Sleep never pressed down his eye- 
lids at such an hour, for he is of a gentle 
spirit, and loves to commune with nature 
in her quiet moods. All hands except the 
watch had turned in ; those rough, weath- 
er-worn tars, dreaming of the scenes of 
childhood. I love a true sailor ; his vices 
are the vices of the land, his virtues are 
his own ; fair weather or foul, a lee shore 
or a safe haven, he is always the same. 
Brave, generous, he carries his life, as he 
does his wages, in his open palm, and gives 
it away as freely ; and when, at the close 
of his checkered voyage on earih, he shall 
safely moor in the port of heaven, God will 
reward his toils with promotion. The cap- 
tain, with the first officer, paced the quarter- 
deck ; while here and there a drowsy pas- 
senger leaned over the bulwarks, and 



watched the fiery foam which flashed 
along the ship from stem to stern. 

" ' The barometer indicates change,' said 
the captain ; ' the mercury has fallen twen- 
ty hundredths within the last half hour.' 

" ' All's right, with clear, open weather,' 
said the mate. 

'" Nothing offV said the captain to the 
man at the helm. f. 

" ' Nothing off", sir !' replied the helms- 
man. 

" ' Luff", there ! luff"! keep the sails full !' 
cried the captain, as the ship fell off" half 
a point to the north. 

" ' Luff", sir !' 

" ' Luff", you land-lubber, luff"! keep her 
on her course ! don't you see that you are 
shaking the wind out of her sails 1' roared 
the captain. 

" ' Luff, sir !' 

" ' The wind is hauling round over the 
larboard quarter,' said the captain. 

" ' Not a rag of a vapour to be seen,' said 
the mate. 

" A small cloud, not bigger than a man's 
hand, rose above the horizon in the south- 
west ; the breeze freshened gradually, and 
veered towards the south. 

"'There is something there!' said the 
captain, pointing to the cloud, which grew 
larger and blacker every moment. 

"' A flaw, with rain!' said the mate. 

" ' Worse than that, I fear, Mr. Merrill ! 
All hands ahoy ! we'll brace up a little ! 
If the wind continues to increase, take in 
the studding-sails and royals, ^tL Merrill !' 

" ' Ay, ay, sir ! All hands^hc 
out, there ! turn out !' 

" The watch below turned upon deck. 

" ' Bear ahead ! ease oflf the weather- 
braces !' 

"' Ease off", sir!' 

" ' Port the helm !' 

"'Port the helm, sir!' 

" ' Haul in the lee braces !' 

" ' Haul in, sir !' 

" ' Heav-o-yo — heav-o-yo-up !' 

"'Belay!' 

"'Belay, sir!' 

" ' Meet the helm !' 

" ' Meet the helm, sir !' 

" ' What's your course V 

" ' W^est-northwest, a point north !' said 
the man at the helm. 

"'Luff!' 

" ' Luff, sir !' 

" The wind increased rapidly, still haul- 
ing round to the south. The captain braced 
up sharp to leeward. The little cloud grew 
apace. The drowsy passengei-s left the 
ship's side, and retired to their berths. 
Oceanus still walked the deck, catching at 
the air, and puzzled by the mystery of feel- 
ing without sight. 

" ' Take in the studding-sails, Mr. Mer- 
rill !' said the captain. 

" ' Man the studding-sails — down haul. 



loy ! turn 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



73- 



lower away the halyards, ease away the 
tack; haul in the sheet.' 

" ' Heave-o-y-o-o — heave-o-yo-up !' 

" ' Belay !' 

" The small cloud grew into a thousand, 
piled like mountains crowding upon each 
other, and blackening one quarter of the 
heavens. 
If " ' In with the royals !' 

" ' Let go the halyards ; man the clew- 
ine ; let go the sheets ; clew up, lay aloft, 
and hand it !' 

'^ The thunder muttered at a distance ; 
the clouds rolled onward, like a sea bro- 
ken from its barriers ; the wind chopped 
suddenly into the southwest — the pattering 
rain fell upon the deck — Oceanus went be- 
low — it blew a gale. 

" The captain seized his trumpet. ' Take 
in the top-gallant-sails !' 

" ' Let go the halyiirds ; man the bunt- 
lines ; let go the sheets ; clew up, lay aloft, 
and hand it !' 

" The rain fell in torrents — the light- 
ning's llash and the thunder's roar were 
simultaneous. 

" ' Take in the jib !' 

'"Man the jib; down haul; let go; let 
go the halyards : haul dowir ; belay ; lay 
out, and furl it 1' 

" The flapping of sails and ropes — 
•Take in the spanker!' — the howling of 
the winds through the rigging — 'Brail up 
the spanker !' — the hurrying to and fro of 
the ship's crew — ' Close-reef top-sails !' — 
the dashing<).f the rain — ' Let go the top-sail 
halyards !'-^the working of the pumps — 
' Haul up the reef tackle ; haul up the bunt- 
lines ; lay aloft, and reef! — the ceaseless 
artillery of the clouds — ' Haul up the main- 
sail !' — the darkness which covered all — 
' Man the clew-garnets, buntlines, and 
leechlines ; ease away the sheet ; pull 
up !' — and made Danger more huge in his 
proportions — ' Hand tlie main-sail !' — the 
sharp, forked lightning — ' Lay aloft ; hand 
the main-sail !' — which hissed in the vex- 
ed and trembling billows — ' Set the spen- 
cer !' — the wail of the awakened and af- 
frighted women — ' Let go the brails ; haul 
aft the sheet !' — the labour of the stout 
ship — ' Take in the fore and mizzen top- 
sails !' — which wrestled with the elements 
like a strong man striving with his enemy 
— ' Man the clewlines ; let go the sheets 
and halyards ; clew up, lay up, and handle 
it !' — the orders and responding orders of 
the captain and his mate, given in hot haste, 
screaming through the night, and piercing 
the ear of the sailor boy who swung uncer- 
tain upon the topmost spar — all were full 
of terror. 

" Oceanus was now sailing close-hauled, 
under a close-reefed main-top-sail, and 
spencers set, with a West India hurricane 
blowing from the southwest, hard on to the 
coast of Florida. Such weather, with a 



lee shore, and that shore a Florida reef, 
made the strongest heart in all that sea- 
worn crew, who had often looked danger 
in the face and laughed, quake with fear. 

" The captain and his mate consulted to- 
gether on the quarter-deck, looking out 
upon the sea, whose waters, lashed to mad- 
ness, burned like the fiery gulf, while, on 
each hand, the flames, rolled in billows-, 
served only to discover sights of wo. 

" ' This cannot last long, Mr. Merrill !' 
said the captain, clinging to the mizzen- 
top-mast back-stay, while every single hair 
of his head sang a separate tune ; ' she 
will either go down head foremost, or be 
dashed to pieces on the rocks. Get the 
boats ready quietly ; do not alarm the 
passengers ; and bend a line to a hauser ; 
if thrown upon the reef, we may get it 
ashore.' 

" The mate turned away to obey orders, 
which showed the desperation of the mo- 
ment. Get the boats ready ! What boat 
could live in such a sea ! Bend a line to 
a hawser ! A man-of-war's cable would 
crack like twine, grappled by such a tem- 
pest ! /*^ 

" TheCm^te returned to the quarter-deck.. 
' All is ready.' 

" ' Mr. Merrill,' said the captain, ' we 
must claw off; the current, with the winds, 
will carry us upon the reef before morning, 
standing on this course. Wear ship. 
Square the aft yards.' 

" ' Man the weather-braces ; ease off the 
lee-braces; haul in; helm hard up.' 

" The ship came round with a lurch. 

" ' Meet the helm.' 

" The ship sat upon the waves like a 
duck, wearing at short intervals, and safely 
riding out the storm. The morning came, 
so long wished for ; how leaden are the 
wings of time to misery ! the tempest had 
passed. The sea heaved from its bottom ; 
the ugly clouds broke asunder, and fled 
before the rising sun ; the captain raised 
his glass, and looked out upon the waste 
of waters ; if others had been less fortunate 
than himself, they had left no trace behind. 
All were happy again, and exchanged mu- 
tual congratulations, when the carpenter, 
pale, his hair erect, sprang through the 
hatch upon deck, and with quivering, livid 
lips, announced a leak, with three feet of 
water in the hold, and gaining fast ! ' All 
hands to the pumps !' The ship had start- 
ed a plank. .Toy fled, like a bird of passage. 
They work for life — death stands palpable- 
in their midst. The tempest is the sailor's 
foster brother : they have wrestled together 
from the cradle ; but a leak comes like aa 
assassin — fatal ; the arm of the bravest can- 
not ward off a secret blow. ' Thirty-six 
inches of water in the hold !' A thrummed 
top-sail is got ready to be hauled under tlie 
ship's bottom. ' Four feet of water iu the 
hold !' All labour alike, men and women. 



7i 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



The pumps, to their anxious hopes, look 
like pipe-stems. ' Eight feet of wlker in 
the hold !' They bail at the hatchways — 
the water-casks on deck are stove, and 
they throw overboard such parts of the 
cargo as are nearest at hand. The ship 
settles — the hold is full — the water is be- 
tween decks. ' Get out the boats.' The 
two yawls, which hang at the davits upon 
the ship's quarters, are lowered into the 
sea; the longboat amidsliips swam like a 
sieve. A small quantity of bread and wa- 
ter is put into them — the ship is on the 
very point of sinking — the captain, the 
■crew, and the passengers crowd the boats 
— the ship groaned, 

" ' Gave a keel, and then a lurch to port, 
And, going down head foremost, sank.' 
" During the storm of the preceding 
night, Oceanus's mother, who was a good 
■woman, and read her Bible, cast about for 
means by which she might cheat the hun- 
gry waves of the richest jewel of all the 
spoil they gaped for. She was not selfish — 
what young mother is 1 She would will- 
iiigly go down to a watery grave, so the 
life of her first-born might be saved ; she 
asked that boon only in her prayejs, and it 
•was granted. She remembered how Mo- 
ses was exposed by the river's brink, 
and, taking a small wooden box, which 
she found between decks, she calked its 
seams, and daubed it within and without 
with tar, until she had made it seaworthy. 
Then, gently raising the sleeping Occanus 
— the tempest had rocked him to his dreams 
— she softly laid him in the ark, strapping 
him down, lest his love for the element 
might induce him to rise and destroy its 
balance, and packing him on every side 
with oakum, until .she had made an even 
surface, which she also tarred thickly over, 
that the wave might leave it as it found it. 
In that condition Oceanus entered the boat, 
nunconscious of the change which a few 
■short hours had wrought in his fortunes. 
Posthumous born, he knew a mother but to 
lose her. Scarcely had the boats escaped 
the whirl caused by the sinking ship, when 
that in which Oceanus was embarked was 
swamped. His mother, the captain, and 
liis mate, with eight otliers, passengers and 
seamen, went down amid cries of despair, 
which soon grew faint, then died away, 
and all was still ; and of that goodly ship 
the sea showed noihing but one frail bark, 
filled with those who scarcely hoped for 
life, and that little ark, with its rich freight, 
tossed from wave to wave, like a weed 
cast upon its bosom, there to rot. The 
old Tar of the Fife, who sat in the living 
boat, seeing his favourite buflettcd about 
•without compass or helm, would have 
leaped overboard to his rescue, but his 
companions held liim down ; the sea rolled 
on — the ark disappeared behind a mountain 
.of waters — thsn rose, showing like a pin's 



head in the distance — and the old Tar, with 
a groan, commended his young shipmate 
to his Maker. The angel of death over- 
shadowed the child with his wings, dropped 
a tear, and passed on.* 

" The ship was lost off Key West, and 
a wrecker's boat, which follows in the 
wake of a storm as do wolves in the track^x 
of hostile armies, soon picked up the sur-\) 
vivers before they had tasted of famine, or 
expended their strength in struggles for 
existence. 'About ship !' cried the old Tar 
of the Fife, as he leaped upon deck ; ' Oce- 
anus lives !' Remonstrance was vain ; the 
saved would have risen upon their salvors. 
Many a weary hour had they cruised with- 
out falling in with the young navigator, 
when the old Tar, who stood at the mast- 
head with a glass at his eye, descried a 
black speck just under the horizon over 
the lee-beam, threw ttie telescope into the 
sea, and came down with a run. ' Heave 
to ; clear away the boat ; lower away ; 
trim aft ; stretch out. Pull !' cried the old 
Tar, ' pull !' while the oars buckled in the 
hands of the oarsmen; 'if he drowns, I'll 
hang you all for murder !' It was Oceanus 
and his ark, and, as the wondering sailors 
put up their oars and bent over him, the 
boy looked up into their faces and smiled,, ^ 
Old Ocean, pleased with the charge which 
had been confided to his keeping, wrapped 
him about with his waves as with a gar- 
ment, rocked him upon his rough breast as 
upon a downy pillow, played with him as 
the noble-hearted lion plays with a poodle, 
and like an old man who takes his grand- 
child to his knees, kissed and laughed, and 
laughed and kissed again. 

" The old Tar of the Fife now adopted 
Oceanus, and the wreckers carried him 
into Key West, without benefit of salvage. 
Were you ever in Key West ■?" 

" Never," said I. 

" It is a very moral place, where a wise 
man may readily make a 'fortune,'" said 
the lawyer. " Its population consists of 
a worthy government judge and his posse, 
lawyers, and wreckers ; should you ever 
have the good fortune to be thrown upon 
their reefs, they will extend to you such 
acts of kindness as you will never forget. 

" The wreckers fed Oceanus upon turtle- 
soup till such time as his newly-acquired 
father was enabled to ship both his son 
and himself, before the mast, on board a 
small coaster bound for Mobile. The 
judge, his posse, the bar, and the wreck- 
ers took leave of Oceanus as one who gave 



* " The angel of death, on being asked whether, 
in the discharge of his inexorable duties, an instance 
had ever occurred in which he had felt some com- 
passion towards his wretched victims, admitted that 
only twice had his sympathies been awakened ; once 
towards a shipwrecked infant, exposed on a solitary 
plank, to struggle for existence with the winds and 
waves." — Al Talisi. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



75 



great promise of future distinction, and 
already discovered talents which might 
thereafter be usefully employed in either 
of the four honourable professions which 
they so honestly represented. 

SECTION II. 

" On arriving at Mobile, the old Tar pla- 
(fced Oceanus with a good-natured inam- 
orata, who was somewhat advanced in 
5'ears, and had, consequently, shaken hands 
with the wildness of youth, forgotten its 
love of change, and assumed a position 
which possessed the advantage of stabili- 
ty, if wanting in many of the elements of 
honour. She had known, in better days, a 
higher condition of life, but, in obedience to 
that law which God has affixed to crime, 
she descended regularly through all the 
grades of her profession until she was fair 
to become the mistress of the old Tar of 
the Fife, and add another to the list of those 
whom he kept, dotted over the face of the 
globe, living in every part, which he, fol- 
lowing the track of commerce, visited in 
the round of years. 

" Commerce ! Where now are the mer- 
chant princes of Tyre, who went down to 
the sea in ships, creeping along the shores 
of the Mediterranean, fearing every cloud 1 
How has the knowledge of man grown, 
until its head reaches the heavens, and 
with its hands it clasps the earth ! Yet 
with knowledge the wisdom of the few has 
become as foolishness ; and with power 
the wealth of the few has been divided 
among many. The coffers of the mer- 
chant of Tyre were richer than the coffers 
of the merchant of England ; magnificent, 
he lived in palaces, dressed in purple and 
fine linen, and fared sumptuously every 
day. The age of the wealth of the few is 
gone ; the present is the age of the wealth 
of the many. Thus it is that knowledge 
levels ; it is ignorance which raises one 
man above another. 

" ' Here is a boy of mine, signora,' said 
the old Tar, as he laid the playfuUOceanus 
in the inamorata's lap ; ' be not over jeal- 
ous, and it will be the better for us all.' 

" The inamorata was pleased with the 
gift, and honest Jack, after a little of mys- 
tery, told his story. 

" ' We must see what we can make of 
him,' said the old Tar; 'you have virtue, 
and know something of books, and I know 
something of the world ; perhaps he may 
command a merchantman before he dies.' 

" Oceanus found a mother in the inam- 
orata, and increased in stature every day. 
Her kindness, uninterrupted during eight 
years, made an indelible impression upon 
his memory ; and he speaks of her now 
with tears in his eyes. The old Tar re- 
turned to salt water, made many a voyage, 
and when bargaining for his wages, al- 
ways laid aside for Oceanus the half 



month's pay in advance. ' The young ras- 
cal will have learning enough,' he would 
say ; ' signora can read and write, and with 
reading and writing he can himself find out 
all that others know ; but he must have a 
start in the world ;' and then he would add 
a dollar to the small sum put by. He vis- 
ited Mobile as often as once a year, and 
was never so happy as when that port was 
one of the termini of his voyage. At such 
times he took the growing Oceanus wholly 
under his own charge, in order to give him 
what he called a practical knowledge of 
life ; and if the inamorata may be said to 
have taught him much that was practical 
within doors, he cannot be said to have 
lost, by pursuing, under a temporary ex- 
change of masters, the same course of 
study without. There were many things 
necessarily falling under Oceanus's vision 
while living with the inamorata, which 
cannot be said to have a decided moral 
tendency ; but as he was not then initia- 
ted into the science of ethics, and was, con- 
sequently, not well able to judge between 
right and wrong, it is to be hoped their in- 
fluence has neither been important uor 
lasting. 

" Oceanus exhibited at all times, during 
the days of his swaddling-clothes, of his 
petticoats, and that third stage of jacket and 
trousers, the same predilection for water 
which was so striking a characteristic of 
his sojourn in the basket at sea. The in- 
amorata used to say that he was half fish ; 
and he now often says that it is a mystery 
with him why Heaven confined man to the 
earth, instead of giving him for his dwell- 
ing-place that element which forms so 
much the larger portion of the globe. Du- 
ring his earlier days at Mobile, he passed 
one third of his time in the gutter : a lo- 
cality which the inamorata was disposed 
to consider healthy ; and whenever he was 
out of humour, and disposed to be trouble- 
some, he could t^e easily pacified by being 
put into a tub of*water. He would not run 
out of a shower for all the world, for he 
loved rain better than sunshine, and used 
to account others the most arrant of fools 
for avoiding that which gave him so much 
pleasure. 

" As Oceanus increased in years, the old 
Tar introduced him to the more enterpri- 
sing amusements of life ; of which, as may 
be supposed, fishing was his favourite ; 
and already, at six years of age, he might 
be seen, with his master, of an overcast 
morning, in Mobile Bay, 'angling and 
crossing the sweet air from isle to isle, 
over the silent streams of a calm sea.' 
Before he was seven he could make spun- 
yarn, weave matting, splice a rope, reeve a 
block, call all a ship's ropes, sheets, stays, 
sails, and yards in their order, backward 
and forward, and box the compass ; and 
had also, under the tuition of the inamo- 



'i 



76 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



rata, got far into the history of the flood, 
besides having committed to memory the 
story of Jonah in the whale's belly. 

"It was in the spring of Oceanus's eighth 
year, that a gentleman, who had then late- 
ly come to reside in Mobile, learning his 
story, introduced himself to the inamo- 
rata, and claimed possession of her pro- 
tege, as being the boy's uncle by the fa- 
ther's side. The gentleman, together with 
a brother, late of this city, and of whose 
fortune Oceanus is the heir, immigrated to 
the United States some twenty years since, 
and, being of an aspiring disposition, ap- 
plied himself to that profession which, in 
republics, and all constitutional govern- 
ments, opens a highway to political pref- 
erment. Having practised the law with 
good success in one of the Northern cities, 
he subsequently removed to Mobile for the 
purpose of recruiting a broken constitu- 
tion. A third brother, who had visited the 
Indies only to return, wanting in enter- 
prise, died poor at home, leaving a young 
widow, whom the lawyer invited to make 
one of his own family. Too proud to make 
known to a stranger the extreme poverty 
of her condition, the lawyer was ignorant 
of her wants, and the young widow em- 
barked in the steerage of a merchantman 
for the port to which he at that time pro- 
posed, and has since removed. The law- 
yer learned the loss of the ship, together 
with the young widow's melancholy fate ; 
but he was ignorant of the birth of his 
nephew, and discovered by accident the 
existence of one whom he has since adopt- 
ed and declared his heir in prospectu. 

" The inamorata surrendered with many 
tears a charge which had become dear to 
her, but which her own good sense taught 
her would be much the gainer by the ex- 
change. But Oceanus was not so easily 
persuaded ; and it was not until after long 
argument, and many stipulations, with a 
full guarantee that his widest liberty should 
not be encroached upon, that he consented 
to pack up his fishing tackle, his bits of 
rope, his small compass, his little tele- 
scope, and his rough models of all kinds of 
vessels, from a ship of a thousand tons to 
a Mediterranean felucca, fashioned by the 
old Tar in his hours of calm, and remove 
from the humble roof of the inamorata to 
the more comfortable and more respecta- 
ble residence of a gentleman of moderate 
fortune. Yet he never forgot one whom 
he very properly regarded as more deser- 
vmg of his gratitude than a mother ; for 
she had done all that a mother could do 
without being moved thereto by blood ; and 
if he found all his wants prevented, and all 
his humours indulged in the house of his 
uncle, he found joy, increased by a thou- 
sand reminiscences, and ten thousand ca- 
resses, in the home of the mistress of the 
old Tar of the Fife. 



" When the old Tar again returned to Mo- 
bile, he was much grieved to learn that 
Oceanus had found a new protector. He 
missed him at the inamorata's door to 
welcome his coming, and the long-wished- 
for spot, which he had looked for over the 
distant seas, counting the hours as they 
passed, had lost its charm. He sang not 
out the merry words which Oceanus de4| 
lighted to hear, ' north, north by east, north- 
northeast, northeast by north, northeast ; 
northeast by east, east-northeast, east by 
north, east ;' and when the old Tar and the 
inamorata met upon the threshold, grief 
choked them ; their hearts were in their 
mouths, and they could not speak. 

" But the old Tar was soon schooled to 
forget self, and to rejoice in the growing 
fortunes of one whose affections he found 
unchanged ; and as he believed Oceanus's 
increasing years now demanded the con- 
tinual supervisorship of a watchful pre- 
ceptor, he resolved to take advantage of 
his old age and the stiffness of his joints,, 
and surrender his right to the seas ; throw- 
out his best bow anchor, and moor himself 
alongside of the inamorata for the re- 
mainder of his days. The inamorata was 
well pleased with having finally fixed so 
roving a lover; her vanity was flattered, 
and the aged and still loving couple, having 
exchanged, through the instrumentality of 
the approved forms in such cases made 
and provided, their former questionable in- 
timacy for a more lawful cohabitation, the 
old Tar of the Fife became thereafter a 
worthy denizen of Mobile. The few pas- 
sages which I have given of his life prove 
the honesty of his heart ; and it gives me 
much pleasure to bear farther testimony ta 
the soundness of his political principles ; 
during his subsequent residence in Mobile^ 
he was never absent from the polls, and 
always voted the democratic ticket. 

" Oceanus was of a nature too independ- 
ent to subject himself to the petty tyranny 
of a schoolmaster. The old Tar had well 
said, that the inamorata could read and 
write, and, with reading and writing, he 
could find out all that others knew. The 
inamorata Avas not far behind her lover iiv 
aflTection for the common favourite ; and 
before he had completed his seventh, year,^ 
she had taught him to read without spell- 
ing, except very big words, and to write a 
continuous hand in large letters. Being 
of that class of women who have much 
leisure, and possessing herself a good ed- 
ucation, she had turned her attention some- 
what to the lighter literature, and had 
upon her shelves many of the old novels, 
and books of voyages and travels, which, 
in younger and brighter daj's, graced the 
tables of her withdrawing room. To the 
best of these, Oceanus was early intro- 
duced. He read with avidity that most ex- 
cellent of sea stories, Roderic Random, 



« 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



77 



■and the voyages of that honest old sailor, 
William Danipier, in three volumes, writ- 
ten by himself; and if he digested a trans- 
lation of Le Sage's curious ' Aventures de 
liobert, dit le Chevalier de Beauchesne,' 
containing the real history of a buccanier, 
from papers furnished by his widow, his 
., reading was not wholly confiued to annals 
of ancient dale, but embraced, through the 
special indulgence and generosity of the 
inamorata, who incurred some expense 
in procuring the books, ' Scoresby's Jour- 
nal,' ' Parry's Narrative,' and the account 
given by Captain Bligh of the mutiny of 
the Bounty. He dwelt much upon the ad- 
ventures of the captain's open-boat naviga- 
tion, and wished a thousand times he had 
been there to participate in its excitement. 
" When ten years old, having revolved 
the matter in ' a mind capacious of such 
things,' he determined to visit the island 
of Cuba, which he had heard much spoken 
of, in a way most consonant to his love 
of adventure. After the many lessons he 
had received from the old Tar in the art 
of boat-building, he believed he could fash- 
ion something which would carry him 
safely over what, to his comprehensive 
jf^ imagination, was nothing more than an or- 
dinary pond ; so, secretly collecting to- 
gether the requisite materials, he laid his 
first plank in a small cove, well covered 
by shrubbery, upon the banks of the Bayou 
Chatique, about two miles out of the city. 
, To this selected spot he would steal away 
% upon every opportunity, excusing his ab- 
k sence by well-devised stories, and, at the 
'^llpnd of six months, succeeded in building a 
vessel ten feet by four, in shape much like 
a baker's trough. Well strengthened with 
numerous knees fastened to the bottom 
and sides, the seams nicely calked and 
tarred, it was altogether as seaworthy as 
such a box could be. From the many and 
very particular questions touching nautical 
matters which he daily put to liis precep- 
tor during the progress of his labours, the 
old Tar was sometimes led to believe that 
his protege was about to play the truant ; 
but Oceanus always contrived to lull the 
^^mnd man's suspicions, while he gained the 
^Bnga^^on he sought for; and, having laid 
^RtPBR for three weeks, and provided 
himself with two extra suits of jackets and 
trousers, besides linen, and a small sum 
of money to pay port•^cha^ges on the other 
side of the Gulf, he was ready to enter upon 
his voyage. 

" It was of a soft, starry evening, in the 
month of May, when the tiny waves, called 
into existence by a gentle breeze blowing 
from the land, crowned their curling tops 
with u light foam, which sparkled for a 
moment like a gemmed coronet, and then 
broke to give place to a succeeding ripple 
as beautiful and as short-lived as its prede- 
cessor, that the vouthful navigator, in the 



language of the insurance companies, 
'broke ground,' and 'got under way,' so 
that, had he taken out a policy upon the 
risk, it must have then attached. Oceanus 
selected the evening for the time of depar- 
ture, lest, both from an unwillingness to 
clear from the custom-house and the queer 
character of his craft, he might attract ob- 
servation and be overhauled in the bay be- 
fore he had well got to sea. Yet he would 
not leave his benefactor to the inquietudes 
of doubt, and therefore, before casting 
loose from his moorings, he put into the 
hands of a slave whom he had hired to as- 
sist in launching his boat, a letter, written 
in his loudest character, and addressed to 
the old Tar under the affectionate title of 
father, with instructions to deliver it in the 
morning. The letter ran after this wise : 

" ' Dear Dad— Fm off for Cuba in the 
good ship Adventure ; stout built, copper 
fastened, well calked, and no mistake. 
Victualled for twice the voj^age. Captain, 
officers, and crew sound as a nut. Hope 
to see your jolly old phiz in less thair 
three months. 

" ' Your loving and obedient son, 
" ' Ocea'nus.' 

" The slave no sooner saw Oceanus mo 
ving off under a shoulder-of-mutton sail 
at the rate of three knots an hour, than h' 
hastened to secure the postage that he ex 
pected to receive at the old Tar's hands 
by a penny-post delivery made many houra 
earlier than the time specified by his young 
master. Oceanus, in his estimation, had 
regarded only the bearer's comfort and 
convenience in fixing a more remote pe- 
riod for the accomplishment of his errand ; 
but the poor slave was sadly in want of 
money, and was willing to incur extra 
trouble, in hopes of an extra reward. The 
old Tar sat quietly smoking his pipe in his 
own doorway when he received the impor- 
tant epistle, and, on reading its contents, 
burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. 
There lie sat, laughing and roaring, until 
the tears ran down his cheeks and wet his 
breast ; while the inamorata stood over 
him, horror-struck, supposing her best-be- 
loved suddenly attacked with a fit of the 
hysterics : a disease which one of his hatf- 
its and age could not take except in its 
most violent form. The old Tar hauled in 
from exhaustion. 

"'My old boy! what is the matter'' 
cried tlie inamorata. 

" The old Tar replied by breaking oui 
afresh with renewed vigour ; throwing up 
his feet, and bringing them down again with 
great violence, while both pipe and lottt.T 
alternately ascended and descended nnich 
after the style of a juggler's balls whon he 
endeavours to awaken the admiration of 
the- unsophisticated by keeping at leust 
one continually in the air. The inamo- 



i 



78 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



rata, driven to desperation, caught at and 
secured the letter in one of its descents, 
and hastily sought in the mystic scrawl 
which blotted its first page the cause of 
her husband's strange convulsion. The 
inamorata was a woman, and fear for 
Oceanus's safety stifled in her all inclina- 
tion to merriment. She questioned the 
slave ; and, learning that Oceanus had ac- 
tually taken to water, with the time and 
the manner, she soon brought the old Tar 
to his wits, and hastened him off", together 
with six of his neighbours, in search of the 
fugitive. 

" Piloted by the slave, he first visited 
the cove, but found there only evident tra- 
ces of Oceanus's skill in ship-carpentry. 
' I knew the young rascal would be a man 
before he was a boy,' said the old Tar. 
' He will never crawl through the lubber's 
hole in his way to the mast-head, and if he 
lives to grow up, will find the northwest 
passage. Blow me, if I don't think he is 
half way to the Havana before this.' 

" One of the company suggested the pos- 
sibility of the boat's having capsized, and 
the poor child drowned. 

" ' Drowned !' exclaimed the old Tar, 
touched by the insinuation ; ' would you 
drown a fish? I picked him up ten years ago 
in the middle of the Gulf, sailing, like a 
mermaid, in a box not bigger than my hat. 
Drowned ! I have held his head under 
water ten minutes by a watch on a wager, 
and he came out laughing ! When Oceanus 
dies of drowning, I will forswear salt 
water.' 

" The old Tar and his companions return- 
ed to the city, obtained a yawl, and rowed 
down the bay in search of ' the Adventure.' 
They had laboured some two hours, look- 
ing through the night, shouting his name, 
and resting at intervals on their oars, in the 
vain hope of catching a reply, when, sud- 
denly, there rose upon the air, afar off, just 
audible over the quiet bay, the shrill, piping 
tones of a youthfui singer. 
" ' The sea, the sea, the open sea ! 

The blue, the fresh, the ever free ; 

Without a mark, without a bound, 

It runneth the earth's wide region round ; 

It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, 

Or like a cradled creature lies !' 

" ' Hurrah ! that is he !' exclaimed the old 
Tar. 'Drowned! Stretch away! I taught 
the j'oung rascal that song ; the best in all 
the service. Give us another strain, you 
young dog; give us another!' 
" ' I'm on the sea I I'm on the sea I 

1 am where 1 would ever be ; 

With the blue above, and the blue below, 

And silence wheresoe'er I go ; 

1 f a storm should come, and awake the deep, 

What matter ? I shall ride and sleep.' 

" ' That you will,' cried the old Tar ; ' you 
have done it before. You'll do ; I'll risk 
you. Blow me, if he don't sing nearly as 
well as myself!' 



" ' I love, oh ! how I love to ride 

On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide ; 
When every mad wave drowns the moon,- 
Or whistles aloud his tempest tune, 
And tells how gocth the world below, 
And why the southwest blast doth blow!'' 

" ' You may well ask that question, you 
young rogue,' said the old Tar ; ' a south- 
west blast drowned your mother. By 
G — d, how my eyes water ! I shall cry like 
a child. Isn't he a captain !' 

" ' I never was on the tame, dull shore, 
But I loved the great sea more and more ; 
And backward flew to her billowy breast, 
Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest ; 
And a mother she was and is to me, 
For I was born on the open sea !' 

" ' I'll swear to that ; for I stood as good 
as godfather to your baptism, you young 
scapegrace,' said the old Tar. ' It was a 
little after eight bells in the afternoon, in 
latitude 50° north, longitude 15° west of 
Greenwich. Ship ahoy ! Heave to, or 
I'll blow ye out of water !' 

" ' The waves were white, and red the mom, 
In the noisy hour when I was born — ' 

" ' I say, shipmate — ' 

" ' The whale it whistled, th^orp " " ^Il'd, 
And the dolphins bar^ti their backs o. goW 

" ' Avast ! belay that !' 

" ' And never was heard such an outcry wild, 
As welcomed to life the ocean child — ' 

" ' Damn the boy, he is as deaf as a had- 
dock !' 



lMi|^ 



'And Death, whenever he comes to me, 
Shall come on the wide, unbounded sea !' 



" ' But not yet, my little monkey of Ih 
forecastle,' said the old Tar, seizing the no- 
ble ' Adventure' by the poop, and staying 
all farther progress of Oceanus and his for- 
tunes. 

" Oceanus had been too much engaged 
with his song to notice the approach of his 
pursuers, or hear the old sailor's running 
commentary upon its execution; and when 
he felt the sudden stoppage of his boat, 
which nearly threw him off his centre, ho 
thought he had struck upon one of those 
sunken rocks which are laid down in.jpiai 
chart, and are found only to be 1|^^' <" ^ 
But the old Tar soon corrected hiMw*u.;<t5; 
and, grasping him firmly by the collar, put 
to flight all his dreams of discovery, by 
gently raising him in air, and putting him 
down with a flourish in the centre of the 
yawl. 

" ' I arrest you,' said the old Tar, ' in the 
name of their high mightinesses, the United 
States of America, as a common enemy, 
pirate, and Turk, for proceeding to sea 
without a certificate, sea-letter, register, 
muster-roll, log-book, or any papers what- 
ever ; for which high crime, I'm thinking, 
young man, the old woman will soundly 
box your ears.' 



I 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUN"D IT. 



" Oceanus was not in a comic mood. The 
labour of months, and the project nearest 
his heart, were gone ; he pouted, swore a 
little, and, for a time, seemed disposed to 
rise upon his captors ; but the old Tar knew 
how to persuade him, and he soon signed fa- 
vourable articles of capitulation, in accord- 
ance with the first of which, ' the Adventure' 

Awas made fast and towed safely into port. 

' " The inamorata was happy, and Ocea- 
nus returned to his former courses. But 
the old Tar did not long survive this adven- 
ture ; the immoderate fit of laughter caused 
by reading Oceanus's letter brought on an 
inveterate relaxation of the bowels — di- 
arrhaea fusa — and at the end of three 
months he died, and was gathered to his 
fathers. The old sailor, like the ancient 
lyric poet, fell a victim to laughter. The 
inamorata could not long outlive one whom 
she had loved so much, and, of late, so 
honestly. She went down to the grave 
within the first month of her widowhood ; 
and now they lie side and side ; their dust 
is in the earth ; their souls safe anchored 
in heaven." 

" Gentlemen, will you permit me to close 
the doors 1" said the janitor of the court- 

.XQflm.f ' '"^fr <9^ 

^e looked arounBws. The court, the 

'advocates and their clients, the audience, 

and Oceanus, had all departed, and we, the 

story-teller and his listener, were left alone. 

The lawyer looked at his watch. " It is 

late ; you will ditie with me at the doctor's 

rooms ; it is his request." 

I accepted the invitation. 

" Will you finish Oceanus's story over 

^ihe wine ?" 

The lawyer assented. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

OCEANUS SETS OUT UPON HIS TRAVELS. 

"Behold the youth just now set free 
On land, imnnersed again at sea, 
Stow'd with his cargo in the hold 
In quest of other worlds for gold." 

SOMKRVir.LE. 

" As near neighbours as we are, ninety-nine in a 
hundred among the French are as httle acquainted 
with th< ;i <ide of our island as with that of Japan." 

— BoLlXi BKOKE. 

" Attrf^WnViay, with assurance, be said, that, as 
there is no creature that possesses so great a share 
ef sagacity and reflection as man, so there is scarce 
any more subject to be deceived." — Polvbius. 
" Was ! quod she, that ever this should happe ! 
For wend I never by possibilitee 
That svviche a monstre or mervaille might be." 

CUAUCER. 

ARGU.MENT. 
New and Old City.— The Doctor at his Chambers.— 
The Doctor's Character and Personal Appear- 
ance. — The Lawyer resumes Oceanus's Story. — 
Oceanus's Uncle proposes that he shall visit Le 
Havre.— He ships before the Mast.— Oceanus in- 
Tests his Fortune in Cotton.— His Library.— Tom 
Jones.— Gil Bias.— Don Qui.xote.— Wilhelin Mei.- 



7-9 

ter.— The Old Testament and Pilgrim's Progresi. 
—Oceanus sets sail.— He teaches a Heretic Doc- 
trine. — The Captain's energetic Interposition in 
Favour of the True Faith.— Le Havre.— Oceanus 
in the Streets of Le Havre. — Admiration of the 
Women.— Jealousy of Les Vauriens.— Result of 
his Speculation in Cotton.— His Despair. — Runs 
away from his Ship.— Becomes a Vanupied.— Is 
in want of a Dinner. — Takes to the Water. — A 
Problem in Political Economy.- He raises the 
Wind. — He concocts a Scheme to replenish his 
Pockets. — Gustave. — Oceanus lays open his 
Scheme to his Friend.— The Affiche.— The E.xhi- 
bition. — Preparations for a Second Campaign. — 
The Carte du Jour.— Monsieur Macaroni.— Pierre 
Jean deB6ranger.— Oceanus and Gustave get Mel- 
low. —'Le Roi d'Yvetot. — Monsieur Vinaigre. — 
Malbrough. — The Policeman. — Gustave's Pres- 
ence of Mind.— Preparation.— A new Way to Pay- 
old Debts.— 'Gustave's admirable Management. — 
Oceanus exhibits Signs of Cannibalism.— The Ne 
gro's Retreat.— The old Gentleman with a Cane. — 
Oceanus's admirable Acting.— Oceanus's Stomach- 
tried. — The old Gentleman's Attack upon Ocea-^ 
nus's Tail.— The Tables turned upon the old Gen- 
tleman. — Unfortunate second Appearance of the 
Perruquier's Apprentice.— The Show closes soon- 
er than was expected.— Poetical Justice.— Ocea- 
nus resolves to visit Paris. — He takes an affec- 
tionate leave of Gustave. 

SECTION III 

The Cathedral, standing at the foot of 
Chartre, and at the head of Conde street,- 
marks, with clearness, the dividing line be-- 
tween what may be now called the New 
and the Old City. The shades run into 
each other at Bienville-street ; but at the 
Cathedral you step at once from a grow- 
ing city of the New World, with its wide 
thoroughfares, convenient walks, well-built 
houses, of three, four, and five stories — 
bustle and business — into a decayed town 
of Europe. The streets are narrow, the 
buildings low and mean, exhibiting few 
signs of improvement, and the popuhition, 
fixed, wanting in enterprise, fearful of 
change, in fit unison with its own labours. 
Even the names painted over the door- 
\yays of the shops carry you to France,. 
Spain, or Italy, and are familiar, because 
they recall the characters and the events 
of that history or story from which the 
poets and novelists of old drew their plots, 
if not their inspiration — a mine which has 
ever been more fruitful than the cold im- 
agination of the North. Look around you 
— everything is strange, because you did 
not expect to find upon the Western Con- 
tinent, within the territories of the new, 
ever-changing, inward-moving, great Re- 
public, the architecture, dress, manners, 
languages, and faces of the old, retrogra- 
ding, palsied monarchies of tlie Eastern 
hemisphere ; but if you have travelled, or 
have read the travels of others, or are 
steeped in the olden literature, everythinjr 
is familiar, because you have .seen or read 
of all that is about you. The clerks in the 
little shops, severe with nuistachcs and the 
imperial, vend tape and bagatelle ; and the 
barber and the chirurgeoii, as they were to 
be found in the days of Ga Bias, meet io. 



i 



«0 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



one and the same person. The helmet of 
Mambrino swings bravely from the apex 
of a riband-painted pole, reminding the 
passer-by that blood-letting and shaving 
are sister arts, and that the royal company 
of bath-keepers and barbers, like the more 
renowned, but not more ennobled, Society 
of Jesus, have retired from the inhospita- 
ble shores of France, to drag out a harm- 
less existence in a land of toleration. It 
is now near one hundred years since 
George II. of Enghxnd built up a parti- 
tion wall between knights of the lancet 
and knights of the- strop ; but here innova- 
tion is an evil, and the traveller below the 
Place d'Armes walks amid a generation 
Aviiich was born a century too late. O 
New Orleans, thou most nuiltiform of cit- 
ies! In the past, thou wast habited in the 
costume of France or Spain ; in the future, 
thou wilt put on the dress of the plain Re- 
publicans who bought thee with a price ; 
but in the present, thy garments are as 
particoloured as was tlie coat of Israel's 
favourite. The past is fixed, immutable, 
and known ; the future will be what the race 
■whose language I write may make it ; but 
the changeable present, the expiring past 
struggling with the growing future, exhibit- 
ing all the hues of the dying dolphin, as fleet 
as the shadow npon the wall, to be caught 
in the moment of existence or lost forever, 
it is my province to chronicle — and can the 
limner's pencil equal in rapidity the ob- 
server's thought ! Thy amusements ; thy 
hours of relaxation ; thy houses of play, 
once legalized, now thriving under the 
anathemas of the law ; thy slave marts ; 
thy pohtical gatherings, unique, partaking 
largely of the barbacue ; thy modes of bu- 
siness, full of the excitement and uncer- 
tainty of speculation, eschewing the quiet, 
even progress of regular trade, with small 
but certain gains : the story of all is to be 
told, and one may be pardoned if he fails 
in its telling. 

" These are oui friend's chambers !" said 
the lawyer, stopping before a comforta- 
ble French-built house in street, with 

its wide corridor, admitting two horses 
abreast, high stories, and windows hung 
with doors, opening inward, so as to make 
the most of those means of ventilation, 
and breaking short off the train of thought 
to which the objects in the immediate vi- 
cinity of the courts had given birth, and 
which the name of Rizzio, blazoned over 
the entrance to a cafe, quickened into ac- 
tivity. Every name connected with the 
history of the fair Queen of Scots belongs 
to Romance. Rizzio, the favourite secre- 
tary, the proprietor of a cafe amid the 
swamps of a new world ! What changes 
have swept over Europe since the day 
when that name passed from the halls of 
Holyrood, to reappear upon a theatre 
which, to me, is ever new, and ever yield- 



ing food for admiration — " New Orleans as 
1 found it!" Time is the Mephistophiles 
of life. 

I found my friend the doctor surround- 
ed, as are all bachelors of cultivated minds, 
and with money at command, with a curi- 
ous mixture of luxury and destitution. 
Many things were rendered useless by 
want of order, and even beauty was made 
offensive by slovenliness. His chambers 
needed the careful hand of woman, whom 
Providence, in its wisdom, has alone en- 
dowed with the qualities requisite to make 
home comfortable. A skeleton strung on 
wires, the vertebrae eked out with bits of 
soft white leather, was the most prominent 
ornament of the room we first entered, 
while its walls were liberally adorned with 
coloured maps of dissections of the human 
body, which might well illustrate a hot- 
press edition of Phineas Fletcher's " Pur- 
ple Island." The doctor, as if aware that 
such things are not, to the uninitiated, very 
strong stimulants of appetite, conducted 
us at once into a second apartment, where 
we found a temperate repast waiting our 
coming. 

And now, while the dcujtor is doing the 
honours of his tabl^|jiKviu make the read- 
er somewhat better acquainted with the 
person and character of a gentleman who, 
both in his external appearance and men- 
tal organization, exhibits, in close approx- 
imation, the most opposite qualities. 

The doctor is diminutive in stature, but 
the several parts of his body hold that true 
proportion, one with the other, which gives 
to every combined whole the most pleas- 
ing effect. His head, though small, is fine- 
ly turned ; his forehead high, broad, and 
projecting ; his eyes float beneath brows 
so sweetly arched, that they seem touched 
by the hand of Raphael ; and his nose is so 
truly Grecian as to impart an air of effem- 
inacy to the face it adorns. Here all beau- 
ty of feature ends. There plays a wither- 
ing smile about his thin, straight lips, 
whether at rest or in motion, which dis- 
covers the workings of a mind ill at ease 
with the things of this world, and with dif- 
ficulty repressed by the influences of edu- 
cation. His chin belongs to that class 
which Lavater would have st^dMjjlie li- 
bidinous, and, when observed iii Connexion 
with his mouth, mingles sensuality with 
recklessness of principle. So conscious 
is the doctor of this deformity, that he usu- 
ally covers the lower half of his face with 
his hand, even when conversing — then, in- 
deed, he looks like an angel ; but when he 
reverses the position, and conceals the 
higher features. Heaven's outcasts are not 
more changed. The doctor is careless in 
his dress, without that pretension to fop- 
pery which slightly characterizes the law- 
I yer's toilet. My friend's intellectual por- 
[tion involved even more contradictions 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



81 



than his face. Poor Solomon's stor}- 
shows that he is, what Dr. Johnson loved, 
" a good hater ;'" and some passages, which 
I shall hereafter have occasion to set down, 
will prove that he is not deficient in kind- 
ness, or wanting in sympathy for the mis- 
erable. Although of a grave, if not severe 
temper, he can at times give in to mirth 
of a broad character, as will be seen here- 
after. He is more learned than the law- 
yer, but not equally a lover of literature ; 
and prefers the dark, uncertain walks of 
medicine to the flowery paths which the 
law)-er treads too often for decisive suc- 
cess in his profession. ^Yhile the lawyer 
reads, and compares one with another, the 
latest literary productions of the five prin- 
cipal languages of Europe, the doctor 
probes and criticises the last theory in 
therapeutics. The lawyer lives for him- 
self, and is wise in securing the largest 
portion of intellectual pleasure, and there- 
fore of happiness ; the doctor enjoys a 
greater reputation with the world. It may 
seem strange that two men of such oppo- 
site qualities should be such fast friends ; 
but they are both good — one by nature, the 
other by force of education. Which is the 
-most meritorious ? 

When the cloth was removed, I remind- 
ed the lawyer of his promise to relate the 
remainder of Oceanus's storj'. The doc- 
tor joined me in my request. ' He had him- 
self heard a part of it from the uncle's lips, 
and was willing to learn the whole history 
of a boy who, at the early age of fifteen 
years, had seen a good deal of the world. 
The lawyer had done well when within 
the influence of the drowsy precincts of 
the court ; he could not but do better when 
the wine circulated freely, and two listen- 
ers supplied the place of one. 

SECTION IV. 

" Oceanus," said the lawyer, resuming 
the bo}-'s story, " was ten years old when 
he lost his early protectors ; two who were 
worthy of a love which they had purchased 
with ten thousand favours. The sorrow 
which came with that event welled up from 
his soul, aivl for months he was sad, for- 
got the water, and passed his days in the 
buryilBg-^und upon the fine sandy plain 
back of the city, strewing the inamorata's 
grave with flowers, and that of the old Tar 
with sea-weeds, which he believed he loved 
better. When time, at length, wooed him 
from his sorrow, he returned to his uncle, 
moody, restless, and even more self-willed 
than when, in the house of the inamorata, 
every wish was prevented by indulgence. 
Love, with its gentle wings, represses the 
rougher humours of our nature ; but he had 
buried his love in the graves of his bene- 
factors, and now there was no one who 
could put a bridle upon that spirit which 
they had been unwilling to curb. He had 
Li 



learned freedom of thought and of action 
from the inamorata : and the subdued con- 
versation and artificial manners of his un- 
cle, and of those he met with at his house, 
were little in harmony with the plainness 
and independence of his late teacher. If 
his lip often curled with contempt for what 
he considered as marking both the effem- 
inacy and imbecility of his uncle's guests, 
he was at no pains to conceal his thoughts, 
and thus fanned the flame of his own ha- 
tred of nature in stays, while he marred 
the happiness of those who were good of 
heart, if weak of mind, and whose follies 
are to be attributed rather to education 
than to mental deformitj-. It may be well 
supposed that his restless desire to wander 
abroad, and see other towns and other 
countries, was not lessened b}'' the death of 
the old Tar, or by an ungentle intercourse 
with his uncle's company. The uncle, too, 
was willmg to try the eff'ect of a sea-voy- 
age upon his nephew's character; hoping 
that, like adversity, it might bring out the 
better parts, while it wore down and pol- 
ished its rough and uncourtly projections. 

" ' Oceanus, you shall see Havre,' said 
the uncle one day to his nephew. 

" The boy's face lighted up ; but recol- 
lecting his uncle's wealth, and the many 
repriraands which he had been pleased to 
bestow upon him for what he called a love 
of low pleasures, it was as quickly over- 
shadowed with doubt. 

" ' Before the mast V said Oceanus, in- 
quiringly. 

" ' Consult your own taste," said the 
uncle. 

" ' My father," said Oceanus — he always 
thus honoured the manes of the old Tar of 
the Fife — ' used to say that it was a disgrace 
to enter the cabin througli the windows.' 

" The matter was easily arranged : joy 
works with nimble fingers, and Oceanus, 
in tarred hat and sailor's jacket, a black 
silk neckerchief, white trousers of coarse 
duck, buttoned tigluly about the hips, and 
shining pumps with large ties, was a sec- 
ond time, and at the age of twelve years, 
shipped before the mast. 

" When the old Tar of the Fife died, the 
small sums of money which he had laid 
aside for the purpose of giving Oceanus a 
start in life had swelled, in the aggregate, 
to the handsome bequest of two hundred 
and twenty dollars : the remainder of his 
fortune, which fell to the inamorata, was, 
shortly afterward, willed by the dying Mag- 
dalen to the common favourite. Thus pos- 
sessed of the means of acquiring wealth, 
Oceanus told his uncle that he was willing 
to double his estate. The uncle was cau- 
tious, Oceanus determined ; and, as the 
stronger ever conquers the weaker quality, 
the hard earnings and parsimonious sa- 
yings of the old Tar were soon transmuted 
into cotton. Oceanus had lived too long 



82 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



amid the buying and selling of the great 
southern staple not to be tainted by that 
species of gambling. He had often heard, 
while listening to the conversations of his 
uncle's visiters, of large fortunes lost and 
won by bold adventurers who were willing 
to stake more than they possessed upon 
the rise or fall of a penny in the pound, and 
remembered only those who were the fa- 
vourites of success. Calculations may be 
based upon the value of cotton at a day to 
come, and calculations may be based upon 
the turn of a card ; but the sportsman who 
trusts to one or the other will, sooner or 
later, be fain to sit, like Beauvarlet, upon 
the steps of the mansion which was once 
his own, and gamble with the money which 
may be thrown to him by his old associ- 
ates. Oceanus's marine propensities had 
gained him the acquaintance of most of the 
shippers in Mobile, and with the old Tar's 
estate in his pocket, in a country where 
credit has been systemized, and paper, 
without the intervention of the precious 
metals, made to represent the value of 
things, he was enabled to make up an ad- 
venture which might double the invest- 
ment, or overwhelm him with debt. But 
cotton, with its expected profits, did not 
constitute the whole of the wealth which 
Oceanus intrusted to the dangers of the sea. 
The inamorata's library, no mean collec- 
tion of the writings of the older novelists, 
enriched, during her later years of matri- 
monial life, with works oT a serious cast, 
was what we lawyers calf a donatio mortis 
causa; and he was willing to relieve the 
monotony of those hours of calm which 
smooth the sea like a mirror, of which the 
old Tar had often spoken in his tales of life 
upon the ocean, with something better than 
the coarse jests and clumsy practical tricks 
of his shipmates. He did not forget his 
favourite, Roderic Random, and as he had 
heard the inamorata say that Tom Jones 
discovered mc'" knowledge of the human 
heart than any book she ever read, he 
put that work also into his chest. And he 
did well. The pilgrim who boldly assumes 
the staff to travel, alone and unprotected, 
the thorny and dangerous paths of life, 
should lake his first lessons from a book 
of infinite wit and perfect delineation of 
character. Its truth will teach him how to 
plant his steps aright, and its humour will be 
a continual sunsiune. playing about his way, 
and lighting him to the goal of happiness 
he seeks. Tom Jones, Gil Bias, Don Quix- 
ote, 11 Decameron, and VVilhelin Meister, 
stand alone ; each without a rival in the 
prose fiction of the language in which it is 
written. The last four are full of delight- 
ful incidents and characters well drawn ; 
but they are disjointed and scattered : the 
master-work of Fielding forms a whole. 
' It is,' said Northcote, ' a regular composi- 
tion, with what the ancients called a be- 



ginning, a middle, and an end : every cir-i 
cumstance is foreseen and provided for ; 
and the conclusion turns round to meet 
the beginning.' We should study a book 
which has secured for its writer the merit- 
ed title of ' Prince of Novelists.' 

" In literature those writers are most wor- 
thy of praise, and w ill live, acquiring fresh 
youth with the passage of time, whose 
works bear the strongest impress of na- 
tionality. 

" Good-natured, with the obstinacy and 
courage of the bull-dog ; open hearted, full 
of rough frolic and fun ; stained with vices 
of the surface, easily committed, and as 
readily repented of; independent, free, and 
yet loyal ; the spirit of Magna Charta, the 
Bill of Rights, of the whole Constitution^ 
moulded into and more than colouring the 
character of the man ; overflowing with, 
prejudices which are guarded as virtues,, 
and rightly, for they have made the peo- 
ple — Tom Jones is English, pure and un- 
mixed. 

" Gil Bias is French all over : a petit mal- 
tre in full dress, admiring himself before 
a mirror ; a creature of fashion, skilful ia 
all the attitudes of the posture-master ; 
volatile, clothed with the most harmless;^ 
vanity, which injlires no one, and secures 
to its possessor endless happiness ; life, 
with him, consists in motion ; thought is 
nothing — frivolity everything ; he lives ia 
the outer world, and would droop and die 
in confinement, like a flower without sun- 
shine. He clutches at the ribands and 
stars of courts as an infant clutches at 
painted bawbles ; take them away, and he 
will be happy with a fiddle, an onion, a 
dance, and the open air. Those who ac- 
cuse Le Sage of plagiarism cannot dis- 
tinguish between the pencil of Hogarth and. 
Michael Angelo ; discover that the French- 
man and the Spaniard are portraits of each, 
other, and find the prototype of Don Quix- 
ote upon the Boulevards of Paris. 

" The immortal creation of Cervantes !' 
the noble pride of Spain, born of merit 
when her sons were heroes ; formal, learn- 
ed, intellectual, generous, and full of all 
knightly qualities ; the soldier, the cour- 
tier, and the poet blended into one whole ; 
heroism, courtesy, and taste acting upon,, 
refining, and raising each other : all sub- 
dued by superstition —Don Quixote is 
Spain run mad. 

" 11 Decameron, the book of a hundred 
tales, of endless variety, crowded with ac- 
tion. The Ro4nan, emasculated ; the Ital- 
ian, full of fiery impulse, and nothing more ; 
the fire of ancient liberty not quenched, 
but smouldering ; a soul, capable of great 
things, squandered upon painting, statua- 
ry, and the opera; taste dominant over 
reason; the Spaniard and the Frenchman, 
pride and frivolity, mixed together, hating 
tyrants, yet readily bowing the neck to 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



83 



each new usurper ; unclean, with the cor- 
ruptions of the universal church ; morality 
lost, is seen but to be wondered at ; vice 
of every shade, from the first turning aside 
from virtue to the blackest deeds of night, 
acknowledged and vaunted of, under the 
broad sun of day : an angel ruined. What 
Italy was in the days of Boccacio, it is 
now — a house divided against itself ; and if 
others cannot find what I have said in the 
Decameron, I can. In those hundred sto- 
ries, men of all ranks, characters, and ages, 
incidents of every kind, the most extrava- 
gant and comical, the most touching and 
pathetic, pass before us in rapid succes- 
sion, like the shifting scenes of a theatre. 
What genius, what manners, and what 
morals ! The ground-plot of the work, 
which holds its several parts together, is 
descriptive of the times and the people. 
' Quando nella egregia citta di Fiorenza, 
oltre ad ogn' altra italica bellissima, per- 
venne la mortifera pestilenza,' says Boc- 
cacio, 'sette Giovani Donne, tutte I'una 
air altra o per amista o per vicinanza o per 
parentado congiunte, delle quali niuna il 
venti e otterimo anno passato avea, ne 
era minor di diciotto ; savia ciascuna, e di 
sangue nobile, e beila di forma, e ornata 
di costunii, e di leggiadria inerta, ed tre 
Giovani, non per cio tanto, che meno di 
venticinque anni forre I'eta di colui che 
piu giovane era di loro ; ne quali ne perver- 
rita di tempo, ne perdita d'amici o di pa- 
renti, ne paura di se medesimi, avea potu- 
lo amor, non che spegnere, ma raffreddare 
usciti della citta, si misero in via: ne oltre 
a due piccole miglia si dilungarono da 
essa, che essi pervennero al luogo da 
loro primieramente ordinato.' And for 
what end ? To bemoan their fair city, 
stricken by the hand of God! To depre- 
cate a plague which had spread its devas- 
tations throughout Italy, and driven Louis 
of Hungary from his prey 1 To weep over 
the loss of friends ■? No. To shut out wo 
with a wall of pleasure ! To steep their 
lips in all uncleanness! The Decameron 
is Italy. The spirit of its people lives in 
every page. 

"A German, outwardly, is dull andheavy; 
compared, physically, with the Italian, he 
is the dray-horse matched with the racer ; 
but he carries the jewel, intellect, in his 
head. If he draws his inspiration from 
beer, like alcohol, it holds small resem- 
blance to the gross material from which it 
is distilled. Philosophical, metaphysical, 
he is more refined than the Platonists, and 
seeks for the causes of things anywhere, 
except where they are oftenest to be found, 
under his own nose. Transcendentalism 
mingles with the common affairs of life, 
giving to existence the patchwork hue of 
reality and fiction. Capable of the highest 
poetry and the lowest buffoonery, which 
move before him, hand in hand, as if born 



of the same mother, he can soar where 
Milton feared to fly, amid that darkness 
which proceeds from excessive light, and 
will laugh until his sides ache over wit as 
refined as that of the harlequin in the 
French comedy which Pickle saw at the 
Hague, got up to flatter Dutch taste. The 
most acute of critics, he knows the soul as 
it will be when set free by death ; and he 
knows the body, as a mass of clay, unin- 
spired ; but of that complex being, the 
marvel of the Creator, the union of body 
and soul, acting upon each other — a har- 
monious compound — he is ignorant. W^il- 
helm Meister is the wondrous intellect of 
Germany spread out upon the pages of a 
book ; and all who run may read. Wil- 
helm Meister could not have been writtea 
by Homer. The Iliad is the off"spring of 
barbarism, mollified by poetry. Wilhelm 
Meister is the offspring of civilization, pass- 
ing into pure intellectuality, or mysticism. 
Wilhelm Meister is the application of phi- 
losophy to the most ordinary duties of life, 
which it adorns and ennobles ; and, with 
its German love of blood, its grossness, its 
German love of buffoonery, is a perfect im- 
age of its creator. 

" I have said that the inamorata became 
honest in the last years of her life. Upon 
her death-bed, she called Oceanus to her 
side, and presented to him a small copy of 
the New Testament. ' Read this often/ 
said she ; ' in it you will find those sweet 
portraitures of our common Father — over- 
flowing with love and mercy — which were 
drawn by Christ. Read ; you will love, 
and therefore obey.' The inamorata had 
wept over the story of Jacob and Esau. 
She had felt the beauty of the affection of 
the elder brother, and revolted from the hate 
and cool deception of the younger bora. 
She believed it to be, not frailty, but a nat- 
ural sense of justice, that caused her to 
sympathize, even unto tears, with Esau, 
when he cried ' with a great and exceeding^ 
bitter cry, and said unto his father, Bless 
me, even me, my father !' ' The moral- 
ity of the older volume, separated from 
foreign matter, is pure ; the religion it in- 
culcates, cleared of Jewish superstition, is 
divine — it is the one true and holy. But 
there are acts therein chronicled, and char- 
acters therein portrayed, approved of, and 
now held up as exemplars unto men, whose 
virtue might be questioned.' She feared 
the prejudices of education — she distrusted 
the judgment of men, and sought the ap- 
proval of Heaven in the assent of that 
reason by which we gain a knowledge of 
right and wrong. The acts and the char- 
acters which she would have condemned 
in profane story, she equally condemned 
in Holy Writ, and therefore substituted for 
the older book John Bunyan's great prose 
poem, where virtue is clothed in words 
which shine like the garments of the just. 



64 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Oceanus put the little Testament, and the 
Pilgrim's Progress also, into his chest. 

" The ship rode at anchor in the outer 
bay. Oceanus stood among the sailors 
upon the forecastle, with his hands upon 
the tarred ropes he loved ; a favourable 
wind blew from the land, and he departed. 
The sun looked prosperously upon his way, 
and the smile of nature without was re- 
turned with an equal gladness of heart 
within. How joyous is young Hope when 
he first steps upon the theatre of life ! 
The world, like a skilful juggler, plays its 
tricks before him, till it cheats his wonder- 
ing eyes into a belief that all which seems 
to be is reality. Youth starts upon its ad- 
ventures with the high imaginings of the 
Knight of La Mancha, and is rewarded, 
most frequently, with an equal success. 

" Few events, other than those which, in 
their ceaseless round, give to the sea its 
monotony, characterized Oceanus's second 
voyage across the Atlantic. 

" When the acquisition of knowledge is 
a pleasure, the student learns rapidly ; and 
Oceanus was soon familiar with the ropes, 
knew every sheet, sail, and tack, and be- 
came as ready at a reef as the oldest tar 
of the forecastle. His tender years, deli- 
cate make, small, regular features, soft, 
quiet eyes, and long, flowing locks of light 
auburn, which rested in ringlets upon his 
shoulders, together with the neatness of 
his attire — for he took a pride in dress — 
gave him an air of effeminacy, and won 
from his companions both their favour and 
the expressive sobriquet of ' the ship's 
baby.' But Oceanus was not disposed to 
take advantage of his youth, or the partial 
friendship of the crew, to escape even the 
most dangerous of the duties of a sailor ; 
and he secured the good-will of his captain 
as effectually by prompt obedience and ac- 
tivity, as the love of his companions by the 
more attractive qualities of his person and 
character. 

"In times of c<Jm, and when the ship 
ran free before a prospering breeze, he 
•would sit upon the fore-hatch and read the 
story of his favourite Random, or discourse 
wisdom from the pages of Tom Jones, to 
a circle of weather-beaten and delighted 
listeners, who forgot the toils they had 
passed, and the dangers which were to 
come, in peals of heartfelt laughter. But 
he did not forget the dying injunctions of 
the inamorata, and, upon the Sabbath, ex- 
changed the novelists for the inspired biog- 
raphers of our Saviour; and, in the sim- 
ple language and apposite illustrations of 
Christ, taught the comeliness of virtue with 
more power than do all the laboured ser- 
mons and glosses which on that day echo 
through the vaulted roofs of ten thousand 
churches. And when the rough sailors, 
equally moved by the pathos of the narra- 
tion and the silver cadence of the reader, 



had wept at the tomb of Lazarus, and re- 
joiced with the widow of Nain, he would 
turn to that other book which he had also 
received from the dying inamorata, accom- 
panied with equal injunctions to read and 
ponder on its contents, and which, in happy 
simplicity, he consequently believed to be 
the older covenant. He became warmly in- 
terested in the allegorical progress of Chris- 
tian through life, and his audience was 
never more numerous or more attentive 
than when he read from the glorious pages 
which record the crosses and the triumphs 
of the saint. But some among his listen- 
ers were disposed to question the accuracy 
of his knowledge, when, on opening John 
Bunyan's immortal work, he would say, 
' Come, let us read a little from the Old 
Testament.' Oceanus had been told that 
' the Bible' comprised both the old and the 
new covenants, which were most com- 
monly found in close juxtaposition under 
the same cover ; a proximity not greater 
than the fellowship of the inamorata's 
last gifts, and he would not be persuaded 
from his belief in the identity of Christian's 
life with that book to which there are such 
frequent allusions in the biographies of 
Christ, although he was wholly unable to 
find the cited passages. This innocent er- 
ror gave rise to two sects among the 
dwellers of the forecastle — those who re- 
ceived the creed of Oceanus, and those 
who scoffed at the idea of the story of the 
trials of the Pilgrim being one and the 
same with the writings of Moses, of David, 
and the prophets. The schism threatened 
to disturb the harmony of the ship's crew, 
and to end in the destruction of the disci- 
pline of the ship, when both parties agreed 
•to refer the subject of their disputes to the 
arbitration of their captain. The captain, 
who was little of a theologian, and less of 
a bibliographer, adjudged, with a round 
oath, both parties to be in error, without 
deigning to give the reasons of his decision. 
But he so far resembled the councils which 
of old were accustomed to settle points of 
faith, that he resolved to enforce his judg- 
ment with something more convincing 
than argument, and, after anathematizing 
Oceanus and his followers for a pack of 
ignorant land-lubbers, who could not dis- 
tinguish between ' Old John Banyan's' lies 
and King Solomon's songs, and stigmati- 
zing the opposite party as a set of idle 
knaves, who troubled themselves about 
matters which they did not understand, 
when they might be better employed in the 
manufacture of spun-yarn, he condemned 
the whole forecastle to a penance of a half 
allowance of salt-junk for a week, and 
commanded his first officer to trice up and 
give a sound dozen to the first delinquent 
whom he should detect reading either the 
New, or the true or spurious copy of the 
Old Testament. A decision enforced with 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



85 



a violence which proved it truly ex cathe- 
dra, was calculated neither to convert the 
heretics nor soothe the true believers ; and, 
although the New Testament and John 
Bunyan were never afterward read from 
the forward-hatch, yet no one of Oceanus's 
party acknowledged the evil of his ways, 
while some of the opposite side came over, 
and, having exchanged truth for falsehood, 
will probably live and die in an error, which 
can neither increase nor lessen their happi- 
ness in this world or the next. But Oce- 
anus was happy. His element compassed 
him about, and on all sides, as far as the 
eye could reach, an ever beginning, never 
ending expanse of water met his smile, 
giving joy to a heart which loved the ocean 
as a child loves its parent. Life, without 
passion, is like a placid bay, that sleeps, 
land-locked, undisturbed by the currents 
of the air, and knows no change but the 
rising and falling of the tides, which, to the 
sea, are what instinct is to the herd of 
men, prompting to motion only to avoid 
stagnation and death. There are those 
who call quietude happiness ; but pleasure 
is the offspring of passion, and is most per- 
fect, most intense, when its origin is most 
simple, attracting and concentrating upon 
itself all the powers of the mind. Ocea- 
nus's passion was the water; in its purity 
he found an emblem of that Deity of whose 
existence he had been taught by the inam- 
orata. In his Steeping hours he dreamed 
of it ; in the morning he saluted it with his 
blessing; and it Avas the last object upon 
which his eye lingered at night. Were 
you ever in Le Havre T' 

"No, sir!" 

" Then it would be idle for me to de- 
scribe it. If I were to tell you that, when 
Oceanus was there, it was a flourishing 
town of some twenty-five thousand inhab- 
itants — since greatly increased — the sea- 
port of Paris, situated in a flat, marshy 
soil, at the mouth of the Seine, surrounded 
by a wall and ditch, defended by a citadel, 
and consisting of long, narrow streets, with 
high houses of a heavy, mean appearance, 
filled to the top with noisy, chattering, 
light-hearted, and light-headed French pro- 
vincialists, you would know no more about 
it than you do now. You may read all 
that has been written, converse with every 
traveller who has visited a foreign land, 
and yet, when you yourself go there, you 
will find it as unlike your picture as are 
the delineations of the actors, to the high 
imaginings which Shakspeare has clothed 
in verse. The minds of men are as vari- 
ous as their bodies ; their eyes, like glass, 
of different colours, different thicknesses, 
and different purity, reflect, receive, and 
refract different rays of light, so that no 
one sees society as another sees it. It is 
wise in youth to lay up a store of reminis- 
cences for the diversion of old age ; and it 



is wise to talk of what we know and of 
what we have seen, in order to keep the 
traces of past thought, and the images of 
things gone by, fresh and vivid in the mind ; 
but when 1 describe a place with which 
you are unacquainted, you are deceived iii 
more respects than one. If language was 
perfect, you would see through my vision, 
and not your own ; but as language is im- 
perfect, you are removed one step farther 
from the truth, and read the copy of a 
copy. 

" At the close of a voyage of thirty-five 
days, Oceanus saw the windmills which 
stand thick along the low coast of France, 
from Cape la Heve to Le Havre ; and run- 
ning within the walls of the town betweerj 
two stone piers which form the entrance 
of its harbour, he moored in safety, to the 
entire satisfaction of all underwriters. 

SECTION V. 

" Oceanus, by permission of his captain, 
who had good-naturedly forgotten the he- 
retical tendency of the boy's religious 
opinions, passed the first week of his resi- 
dence in Le Havre in the gratification of a 
worthy curiosity. A new people, with 
new manners, and a new language, occu- 
pied and amused all his faculties ; and he 
wandered through the streets of the town, 
staring at everything which was to be seen, 
admiring the voluptuous forms of the 
women — Oceanus is a little precocious — 
laughing at the practical jokes of the 
merriest people on earth, and weeping, in 
his simplicity, over the pantomimic tales 
of wo of a sturdy army of beggars, whose 
mmibers filled his mind with wonder, and 
whose wants he supplied with a sailor's 
liberality, until his pockets had nothing 
more to give. But if he was himself all 
eyes and all ears to the infinite novelties 
around him, his own beautiful person, his 
youth, the neatness of his professional at- 
tire, his silent admiration, and, more than 
all, his national character, at a time when 
all France rang with the rap of General 
Jackson's hickory club upon its portals de- 
manding the six million reclamation, at- 
tracted equal attention. 

" ' Ah ! qu'il est beau ! Si jeune, et mate- 
lot! C'est un ApoUon nascent. C'est 
Cupidon, qui a quitte son metier pour tra- 
vaser la mer!' exclaimed les belles citoy- 
ennes de Le Havre, as Oceanus sauntered 
along, looking up into their eyes, uncon- 
scious of the praise he elicited, all the fine 
qualities of his person heightened by the 
genuine na'icete which sat upon his boyish, 
unschooled face. 

" ' Sacre coquin ! C'est un jeune Ameri- 
cain. Un de ce pays qui vent nous ecor- 
cher!' cried some half dozen idle, ragged 
petit vauriens, wlio hang about the corners 
and public places of every city, taking les- 
sons in vice, and who claimed Oceanus's 



86 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



attention only as speaking a language 
which he could not understand. 

" ' Mon Dieu !' exclaimed les belles 
dames, whose admiration was turned into 
another channel by a knowledge of Ocea- 
lius's citizenship. ' Mon Dieu ! le petit 
Leau sauvage ! Avcc les longues tresses 
de sa chevelure blonde. Ah, c'est un ange 
habilie comme un petit gari^on I' 

" ' Sacre foutre ! qu'il est villain, en fai- 
sant parade d'une telle fierte. Ce n'est, 
sans doute, qu'iin vanupied comme nous !' 
cried les vauriens, pressing upon his heels, 
and huddling about him witli sundry dem- 
onstrations of fight ; and they were not 
required to wait long for a touch of Ocea- 
jius's quality. After the true American 
style, which knows nothing of rules, and 
cheered on by the encouragements of the 
"women — God bless them! their sympathies 
are always with the weaker side — he put 
forth his strength right and left, and ma- 
king up in agility what he wanted in sci- 
ence, he demolished six noses in less time 
than it would take to count them. 

" Similar scenes were frequently enacted 
in the course of Oceanus's week's ramble 
about Le Havre, so that he early acquired 
some knowledge of the French language, 
especially of its stronger and more idio- 
matic phrases, together with an insight 
into certain national traits of character 
■which he could in no other way have gain- 
ed. But as an offset against such advan- 
tages, he returned to the ship at the close 
of his leave of absence with two very black 
eyes and the better part of his wardrobe 
in a condition which rendered it unfit for 
future service. The gains and losses of 
this guerilla sort of warfare were in that 
■way so equally balanced, that Oceanus 
resolved to make no more incursions into 
the enemy's country, except in the legiti- 
mate and protected character of a man of 
business. 

" Our hopes are ever to be dashed to 
earth when highest ; and Oceanus's dreams 
of wealth were roughly compelled to shake 
hands with poverty. When the region 
about his eyes had recovered its natural 
colour, thinking it time to look after his 
adventure, he called upon his consignee. 
Cotton had fallen ! It may be difficult to 
understand how these things happen, but 
every blow of General Jackson's hickory 
club knocked it down a centime in the 
pound, and the important merchant, instead 
of gently stroking down Oceanus's fair 
hair, and telling him tliat he was a smart 
boy and would die rich, coldly turned from 
his inquiries, with the soothing information 
that his venture had wrecked twice his in- 
vestment. Oceanus returned to his ship, 
and sought the inmost recess of the fore- 
castle. For the first time in life he knew 
what it was to be a debtor ; and for the 
first time in life that horrid phantom which 



day and night traverses the earth, entering 
the dwelhngs and claiming the companion- 
ship of men — Want — deformed with filth,^ 
rags, and disease, offered her embrace,' 
while she whispered in his ear, we have 
many years to live together. Depressed, 
regretting the past, despairing of the fu- 
ture, he gave way to a flood of tears. His 
self-willed arguments, and his uncle's 
doubts ; his sanguine promises of success, 
and his uncle's cold sneers, returned to 
him, and entered like a two-edged sword 
into his heart. He wanted courage to 
meet the jeers which a^vaited his return to 
Mobile, and from day to day, while the 
ship was reloading with the products of 
France, and as the time drew near for her 
departure, he grew absent and moody, 
neglected his duties, drew down upon him- 
self the anger of his captain, and quarrel- 
led with his companions, till, failing in 
moral strength, he committed his first false 
step in life — and ran away. 

" We gain wisdom from loss, and a harsh 
lesson learned in youth is often experi- 
ence cheaply paid for ; but nothing com- 
pensates a turning aside from duty ; pun- 
ishment is as sure as justice is certain. 
Oceanus has found bitter proof of this 
truth, both in the vice and filth of Europe 
and in the vice and filth of our own pris- 
ons. His first act, after leaving his ship, 
was to make his peace with his late ene- 
mies, les petits vauriens ; a stroke of pol- 
icy which was quickly followed by his be- 
coming, without a figure, the veriest va- 
nupied that infested the docks, blind-alley&, 
and public places of the city. For two 
weeks he I'ay concealed in one of those 
hells to be found in every port, called a 
sailor's boarding-house, and when, at the 
close of that period, he ventured abroad, 
he was told that the pittance which the 
pawnbroker had advanced upon his last 
shirt was exhausted, and that he must find 
lodgings elsewhere. 

" Oceanus, the truant, was able to smug- 
gle from his ship but little more of his 
wardrobe than what he wore upon his 
back ; his wages had been already portion- 
ed out among the beggars of Le Havre ; 
and those four great works, Roderic Ran- 
dom, Tom Jones, the New Testament, and 
Pilgrim's Progress, which he believed to 
contain all knowledge, worldly and moral, 
besides a vast fund of pleasure and con- 
solation, which satisfy the wants of the 
mind, he would not part with in order to 
satisfy the grosser wants of the body. 
Surely, as he wandered, houseless and 
cheerless, about the city, there was in his 
carriage but little of that fierte which had 
excited the envy of his late friends, the 
vanupieds. But the body must be fed; 
and he who is starving cannot steal ; for 
all he takes to stave off hunger is, by the 
first law of n ;ure, his own. The truth of 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



87 



this proposition, which men readily assent 
to in the abstract, but question when prac- 
j;ically enforced, suggested itself to Ocea- 
lius's ruminating spirit, and, like Brindley, 
who always took to his bed when puzzled 
by any difficulty in mechanical science 
which threatened to checkmate his ge- 
nius, he took to the water. And there he 
lay, floating upon the surface, in the midst 
of the harbour, surrounded Avith shipping, a 
thousand small boats flying in every direc- 
tion, unheeded and unheeding, his head 
iilled with crude notions of political econ- 
omy. ' Ireland,' says Ebenezer Elliott, ' is 
brought down to the lowest force that will 
support life ; and when that is the case, 
neither life nor property can be safe.' And 
why not 1 Because, when it is brought so 
low, it may be brought still lower ; and 
then property is swallowed up in self-pres- 
ervation. This was the problem which 
jOceanus desired to solve — At what point 
does starvation commence ^ and when are 
we permitted to take that which is held by 
another without incurring guilt ^ He could 
see through the matter pretty clearly in 
theory ; but the practice of every well-reg- 
ulated government clouded it with difficul- 
ties. The law says that starvation com- 
mences when it has done its work, and 
will hardly give to the dead pauper that 
Test which it denied him while living. As 
ratiocination became perplexed, and grew 
darker and darker, Oceanus would dive and 
swim some fifty yards under water, com- 
ing up at a new point, blowing like a seal, 
and shaking his dripping locks as would a 
sea-horse his mane, if he had one. This 
evolution was repeated so often as to at- 
tract the attention of the busy walkers 
upon the adjacent quays, whose shouts 
soon drew together a crowd of curious 
idlers, with voices equally ready for ap- 
plause. Oceanus, discerning the cause of 
the noisy admiration of the landsmen, laid 
aside his knotty problem in political econ- 
omy, and gave up his whole strength to an 
exhibition of his skill in hydrostatics. He 
rolled and tumbled like a porpoise, sank, 
then rose, threw himself entirely out of 
water, re-entered the element head fore- 
most, rose again, fanned the air with his 
hands, skimmed along just above the sur- 
face like a flying fish, and disappeared. 
Then he would dart through the water like 
a shark, approach a boat loaded with fruit, 
turn a somerset over the heads of the as- 
tonished market-women, and reappear 
where the spectators least looked for him. 

" Lcs bons Citoyens were in ecstasies. 
They shouted, clapped their hands, and 
cried bravo, until Oceanus, like a new 
candidate for histrionic fame, obeyed a 
hundred calls, and landed to receive the 
congratulations of his light-hearted admi- 
rers. They pressed around him before he 
had time to make his toilet. 

" ' Qui etes-vous?' 



" ' Un Americain.' 

'" Et votre pereV 

" ' II est mort.' 

" ' Et votre mere V 

" ' Elle dort au fond de la mer.' 

" ' Ah, Le pauvre Orphelin ! Tenez done 
— la ! la !' and they filled his hands with 
sous and franc pieces. 

" If Oceanus now spoke French passably 
well, and understood it better, it is not to 
be wondered at. A boy of his years, with- 
out diffidence, and urged on by necessity, 
will learn a language in three weeks. 
When the memory is young and ductile, 
it readily retains the three thousand words 
which are bandied about in the every-day 
conversations of business, social wants, 
and social recreations. 

" Oceanus put on his dirty, ragged clothes, 
and walked joyously back into the heart of 
the city. He had forgotten his problem in 
political economy, and thought only of 
hunger and the present means of satisfy- 
ing it. He soon found a cafe which admit- 
ted to its tables patrons of an external ap- 
pearance as questionable as his own, and 
with the larger half of a roasted cat in one 
hand, and a bottle of claret, which was too 
sour ever to have been sweet, in the other, 
he turned his thoughts towards the future, 
in search of a way whereby he might gain 
a subsistence less precarious than that 
which Heaven, in its abundance, had just 
poured into his lap. Swimming in the 
harbour, while it would lose its attractions 
with its novelty, was necessarily an exhi- 
bition which must depend for its remuner- 
ation upon the generosity of the lookers- 
on ; and it is hard to pay for pleasures al- 
ready enjoyed. That scheme he laid aside 
with his first bottle, and took up another 
with the second half of the chat deguise. 
The echoes of General Jackson's hickory 
club still rang in the ears of France, and, 
remembering the interest which his own 
person excited when accused of being an 
American by the petits vauriens, who, with 
a Frenchman's adoration of glory, were 
willing to receive more kicks than coppers 
in defence of the national honour, he re- 
solved to turn the whole matter to the ad- 
vantage of his pocket by exhibiting him- 
self to the curious public as a rare speci- 
men of the genus homo, species America- 
nus. He cast about him for the means by 
which to put into execution so admirable 
a project, and soon bethought himself of 
one of the sturdiest of his new friends, the 
vauriens, who possessed that quickness 
of parts and knowledge of the world which 
were necessary to insure success. The 
bottle of sour claret and the chat deguise 
had produced a revolution in Oceanus's 
feelings ; there is all the difference in the 
world between a full and an empty belly ; 
and he sallied forth from the cafe surround- 
ed with his former hopes, while visions of 



88 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



wealth again floated before his eyes. As 
he walked dreamingly along through the 
streets, no jolies dames stopped to admire 
the beauty of his flowing- locks, for they 
had already passed into the hands of a per- 
ruquier before the pawnbroker received 
his last extra shirt, and, however lofty may 
have been the flight to which his spirit then 
soared, his more earthly part, disguised 
with rags and dirt, reduced him to a level 
with the veriest vanupied in Le Havre. 
He was not compelled to go far in search 
of his friend ; for he had retraced but half 
his steps towards the docks, when he es- 
pied, on the opposite side of the way, the 
hopeful youth, whom he was willing to 
make a partner in his fortunes, in the act 
of relieving the pockets of an honest, pa- 
triotic old gentleman, who stood gaping in- 
to a shop window at a well-drawn carica- 
ture of the Citizen King piling cannon balls 
and bombshells upon the back of the Old 
Hero, in answer to the dun for the six 
millions reclamation. Ocearius arrived in 
time to prevent an act of disinterested be- 
nevolence which neither Bunyan, nor ei- 
ther of the other three great works which 
he then always carried about his person, 
had thought it politic to praise ; and taking 
his friend under his arm, he led him away 
to a more favourable situation, where he 
might, undisturbed, open to his wondering 
mind a scheme which was to pour gold in- 
to their laps more freely than fortune was 
then pouring want. 

" Oceanus and his companion sat upon 
a little stone step, deep within one of the 
blind alleys of Le Havre, the listener assu- 
ming an air of grave reflection, as if he 
weighed each word as it was spoken, and 
the schemer talking and gesticulating after 
the manner of one who is determined that 
his project shall not fail for want of an ad- 
vocate. 

" ' What do you think of it, Gustave ■?' 
said Oceanus, drawing a long breath, at 
the close of his '>arration, and addressing 
his friend, who was a big boy of some two 
years more of life, without education, 
without morals, without anything except- 
ing a long, lanky person, scantily covered, 
a sinister look, with such a knowledge of 
men as necessity always gives to those 
whom she compels to exist by their wits, 
and a right to live. 

'• ' Sacre foutre ! it is a good thing, and 
would succeed, my young Arab of the 
woods I' exclaimed Gustave, applying to 
Oceanus the soubriquet by which he was 
known among the vanupieds of Le Havre, 
who conceived that little difference, other 
than their homes, existed between him and 
the Moor, whose quiet their royal master 
then disturbed upon the shores of Africa ; 
' but we want capital. Twenty francs is 
a great deal of money ; and twenty francs 
would hardly cover the outlay.' 



" Oceanus laid his hand significantly 
upon his pocket. 

"'Tut! my little moralist — you who 
have the four saints always with you — 
Sacre Dieu ! our Church puts no such 
nonsense into our heads ! have you lifted 
a purse to-day ? Aha ! I thought so — il y 
a jamais dans le langage d'un hypocrite 
une certaine douceur que n'a pas la 
verite !' 

" Oceanus sprang to his feet, and stood 
looking down upon the vanupied with min- 
gled rage, wonder, and shame. ' Does 
contact with sin, indeed, so contaminate ! 
His associate, he believes me a thief ! 
Then the honest have long since drawn a 
similar conclusion !' 

'• The vanupied looked up into Oceanus'S' 
face : ' Fi done ! Get out of that ! I under- 
stand you : you can't play Tartufe with 
me !' said he, sneeringly. 

" Oceanus sprang at the vanupied's 
throat. 

" ' That will teach you better manners !' 
said the vanupied, as Oceanus rolled upon 
the pavement, the blood spirting from his 
nostrils, and adding little to the comeliness 
of his appearance. ' D — n you, you are 
no better than an Englishman, and I have 
a great mind to treat you to a few extra 
kicks, by way of a gentle hint to leave your 
brusquerie nationale at home the next time 
you visit La Belle France.' 

" Oceanus rose, pretty well convinced 
that, if his own folly had led him into bad 
company, he could not well complain of 
its inconveniences ; besides, as Gustave 
remarked, since he Avas a stickler for mor- 
als, he might have found out that there is 
little diff'erence between picking a pocket 
and swindling the public. 

" The quarrel between the two friends 
was soon healed : Gustave scraping the 
blood from Oceanus's face, and Oceanus 
laughing heartily at his late astonishment 
at finding himself stretched along the pave- 
ment, when he expected to have proved, 
in the twinkling of an eye, that one Amer- 
ican can whip three Frenchmen. Yet there 
was something more than a mere verbal 
diff'erence between the characters of the 
two boys. Gustave said well, that picking 
a pocket and swindling the public are, in 
crime, one and the same thing; yet the 
law does not say so — neither does society 
say so — and Oceanus had not then learned 
to distrust the moral perception of both the 
one and the other. Gustave had a strong 
mind, but, unfortunately, it was so warped 
that it reasoned crookedly from straight 
premises. Seeing others do that securely 
which he knew to be wrong, he was will- 
ing to go farther, and commit acts which 
society punishes as crimes — railing against 
the blmdness and partiality of the law, in- 
stead of striving to remove the ignorance 
and prejudice of its makers. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND It. 



89 



SECTION M. 

" Young hearts are energetic, and Oce- 
anus's project was no sooner approved of 
than it was carried into effect. Soap and 
water are great beautifiers of the skin ; 
even Gustave was benefited by ablution, 
and looked less the coquin for having a 
clean face. They cast their old clothes, 
as a serpent casts his slough, and a highly 
respectable slop-shop kindly volunteered 
its services to give them a genteel appear- 
ance at half cost. A large, airy room was 
taken, in the neighbourhood of the most 
fashionable hotel of the city, and, as land- 
lords there, as well as here, are the most 
privileged class of creditors, the pets of the 
law, who live by the game of grab, they 
were not required to pay rent in advance. 
Gustave put the chamber in order, arrang- 
ing everything for effect — the French have 
a natural taste for such things — and Oce- 
anus's last franc pieces were paid away 
for parti-coloured atiiches, which set forth 
in grandiloquous periods the curious nov- 
elty that was to be exhibited, for a few 
days only, at No. — Rue de Paris. They 
r^n much after this wise : 

" ' Grande Curtosite Naturelle! 
" ' Le Soussigne a I'insigne honneur d'in- 
former le public tres-eclaire qu'il offrira a 
ses regards dans une vaste salle No. 10 

Rue , un jeune Americain et Yankee, 

citoyen de la grande nation democratique. 
II a et6 pris dans les plaines immenses des 
Cannes a Sucre naturelles de I'etat de Mo- 
bile. On vient de le transporter en France, 
ou il n'a pas eu le temps de perdre par le 
contact de la civilisation ses mceurs sauva- 
ges. 

" ' Caraclere Physique et Morale. 

" ' Ses cheveux sont lisses, comme ceux 
d'un Chretien, et son teint est un peu clair 
pour un idolatre. II ne mange que des ne- 
gres vivants et du tabac. Son intelligence 
est superieure, et audessus de cette d'un 
ourang-outang, car il salt faire usage d'un 
couteau et d'une fourchetle — pourvuque 
celle-ci n'ait pas plus de deux branches. 

" ' P. S.— Son Altesse Royale le Roi de 
Fran(;ais ayant exprime confidentiellement 
un vif desir de voir ce phenomene de la 
nature, on ne pourra le donner en specta- 
cle que peu de jours, aux habitants de cette 
ville — Prix d'entree, un franc' 

" Oceanus pointed out to his friend Gus- 
tave several small errors in this affiche ; 
such as the arbitrary erection of the town 
of Mobile into a sovereign state, and the 
locating vast fields of wild sugar-cane in a 
country where that useful plant can be 
hardly forced to grow by dint of the most 
unwearied cultivation; and then, Heaven 
knew, he was not such a cannibal as to 
feed upon live negroes, neither had he, as 
M 



yet, contracted the filthy habit, so common 
among his countrymen, of chewing to- 
bacco. 

" ' The affiche was written by a very 
learned acquaintance of mine, who has 
read everything, and knows more about 
your country than you do yourself,' said 
Gustave, doggedly. ' You are wrong ; but 
it would be all one if you were right. We 
Frenchmen believe all my friend has said 
of you Americans, and it would be bad 
policy not to humour the error. Take 
care, too, lest, in attempting to instruct the 
public, the public do not set you down for 
an ass.' 

" There was much sound sense in the va- 
nupied's reasoning, and Oceanus is a youth 
open to conviction ; so the affiches were 
posted up at the corners of the streets and 
in the public places, drawing together large 
crowds, who laughed, shrugged their shoul- 
ders, doubted, convinced each other, and 
resolved to attend the show. 

" Oceanus and Gustave passed the night 
prior to the opening of the exhibition in the 
quiet streets of Le Havre, anxiously dis- 
cussing their hopes, and mutually suggest- 
ing such rules of conduct as each thought 
necessary to success. 

" ' I shall be compelled to act as door- 
keeper as well as showman of the wild 
beast, and treasurer of the establishment ; 
I know no one we could trust to take the 
money at the entrance,' said Gustave. 

'"We must let in but a limited number 
at a time, close the door, stir me up with 
a long pole, and then, turning them all out 
at once, admit a new set,' said Oceanus. 

" ' That will never do,' said Gustave. 
' They without will break in from curiosi- 
ty ; and, ten to one, they within will break 
out from fright — for you are a terribly ugly 
looking aniuial, Oceanus.' Oceanus bow- 
ed, and the vanupied gave his late-pur- 
chased shirt-collar a twitch with an air 
which said, ' There, were you as good- 
looking a fellow as myself, you might hope 
to do something among the women.' ' No, 
no ; I will keep at least one eye upon the 
entrance ; not a franc shall escape me ; 
and if we do not live hereafter like fight- 
ing-cocks, it will be because you do not 
understand your part. You must roar like 
a mad bull ; and if a live nigger should 
happen to come into the room, jump at him, 
and look as if you wanted to eat him up.' 

'"I can eat anything but tobacco,' said 
Oceanus. 

" ' Ah ! we will eat nothing, unless the 
public insist upon it; then, perhaps, it 
would be better for you to swallow the to- 
bacco, though it may go against your stom- 
ach, rather than run your neck into a hal- 
ter by tasting t'other article,' said Gustave. 

" ' Is it murder to kill a negro in France V 
inquired Oceanus. 

"The vanupied assured him they wer© 



90 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



there esteemed rather more highly than 
■white men. 

" The exhibition opened. It was a fine 
jnorning in the month of June, and the sun, 
as it peeped into the windows, promised 
to bring many visiters who would pay, in 
return for the compliment of being permit- 
ted to see the show gratis. Oceanus stood 
at one end of the hall, with a heavy chain 
encircling his waist, and made fast to a 
large iron staple driven into the floor. His 
dress, perhaps, indeed, none the better for 
past wear, gave little indication of the 
feigned ruggedness o-f his manners, for it 
rivalled, in elaborate arrangement, the fas- 
tidious toilet of the petits maitres of Le 
Havre. This was Gustave's policy ; Oce- 
anus would have selected the blanket, feath- 
ers, and paint of a North American Indian ; 
but Gustave understood his countrymen ; 
they are great lovers of antithesis, and he 
clothed Oceanus with the trickeries of 
fashion for the same reason that the mu- 
sic-grinder clothes his monkey in the ha- 
Taihments of a man — the contrast between 
covering and character is pleasing. 
i " Gustave stood midway between Ocea- 
nus and the grand entrance to the hall, his 
face turned from his friend, with whom he 
conversed in a half-suppressed tone of 
voice, while he watched for the first of 
that public which he expected to darken 
his portal. 

" ' Sacre coquin, it is now nine o'clock, 
and no one comesJ' said the vanupied. 
'It would be a fine joke if, instead of our 
making an ass of the public, the pubMc 
should make asses of us ! D— n it, clank 
your chain, and growl so that you can be 
lieard in the streets. I wish we had a big 
drum, or a horn, or a grinding-organ ; there 
is nothing like them for getting' together a 
crowd. Walk in, gentlemen, walk in ; walk 
in, and see the great natural curiosity that 
never was seen, and never will be seen 
again ; only one franc. I wish, Oce, you 
liad them super>^ curls you wore the day 
■you knocked down some half dozen vau- 
Tiens in the Rue de Paris; they would take 
mightily with the women. Walk in, ma'am, 
•walk in ; walk in and see the great natu- 
ral curiosity what never was seen, and 
never will be seen again ; only one franc,' 
continued Gustave, addressing an old lady 
who stepped up to the threshold of the hall, 
and stood looking in, uncertain whether to 
advance or recede. 

" ' Is this the show ■?' inquired the old 
lady. 

" ' Yes, ma'am ; don't be afraid — he won't 
bite — tame as a kitten,' said Gustave, ap- 
proaching the old lady, with his left hand 
stretched out to receive the piece of one 
franc, while he doffed his hat with the oth- 
er, and bowed with the sycophantic polite- 
ness of the trade. 

" The old lady paid the franc, walked 
Into the hall, and put on her spectacles. 



" ' La me ! is that a Yankee 1 I thought 
he had a tail !' said the old lady, examining 
Oceanus from a respectful distance. 

" ' Yes, ma'am ; the first in the country ; 
fresh imported ; he had a tail once, ma'am, 
but wore it off" coming out, sitting down on 
the hard deck of the ship,' said Gustave. 

"^ What a pity ! He looks now just like 
any other man,' said the old lady. 

" ' Sacre bleu ! keep quiet, and look fierce, 
or you will spoil all,' said Gustave, in a 
whisper to Oceanus, who gave audible 
signs of an inclination to laughter, while 
his face was drawn into all sorts of comi- 
cal shapes by the Violent exertions made 
to suppress his feelings. 

" ' What a queer way he has of screwing 
up his mouth and nose ; maybe it's St. 
Vitus's dance he's got,' said the old lady. 

" ' D — n the old punk, she'll blow us. 
Growl, Oce, growl ! and jump at her,' said 
Gustave, in a second whisper. 

" Oceanus snorted like a horse ; the old 
lady, startled by the suddenness of the ex- 
plosion, stepped back a few paces, and 
made big eyes ; Oceanus, recovering him- 
self, broke forth into a wild Indian whoop, 
shook his chain, and leaped about like mad. 

" ' Mon Dieu ! Lord bless us ! Quel sau- 
vage ! I must go. What if he should 
break loose ! Do, dear Mr. Keeper, give 
him something to eat, and keep him still 
till I get out,' exclaimed the old lady, hur- 
rying towards the door, and looking over 
her shoulder every second step to see 
whether Oceanus was not upon her back. 

" ' I am glad she is gone, the old quiz, if 
we don't have another to-day,' said Gus- 
tave, drawing a long breath. 

" But Gustave was to have another, and 
many another, too ; for Oceanus's wild 
whoop had served all the desired purposes 
of drum, trumpet, and hand-organ. It re- 
verberated through the hall, and passed 
into the streets, leaping from house to 
house, thrown back in a hundred echoes, 
now high, now low, like the wild gibberish 
of some mad fiend. Sounds so foreign to 
the ears of the good citizens of Le Havre 
arrested the passers-by, and the curious 
came pouring in, their love of the marvel- 
lous rendered yet more active by the evi- 
dent fright of the old lady, who descended 
the short flight of steps which mounted to 
the entrance with an agility that took forty 
years from her age, and hobbled away at a 
rapid pace, upsetting several small boys in 
her course, until she had put two squares 
between herself and the imaginary danger. 
'• Gustave was too much occupied in re- 
ceiving franc pieces to reply to the many 
questions which were asked concerning 
the rare qualities of the animal exhibited; 
but Oceanus h-ad learned a lesson from the 
credulity of the old lady, and acted his 
part so well as to keep his visiters at a 
distance. They saw all the savageness 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



91 



of the wild man sleeping under a very mild 
exterior, and Oceanus would have had no 
cause to complain of the minuteness of the 
examination to which he was subjected, 
had not an old gentleman with a cane, who 
had travelled beyond Le Havre, and under- 
stood trap, given him sundry pokes in the 
ribs and backside for the purpose of try- 
ing his metal. Oceanus parried the old 
gentleman's thrusts as he best might, and 
rattled his chain, and growled, and whoop- 
ed so fiercely that some young ladies pres- 
ent became alarmed, and insisted that the 
old gentleman should let the young savage 
alone ; a courtesy he was too much of a 
Frenchman to deny, although he was over- 
heard to exclaim, as he walked away, 
* Quelles sottes ! But I have not yet done 
with the Yankee !' 

" Many came and went. Those who 
had paid, if they discovered the cheat, 
were unwilling to acknowledge their folly, 
and the day's exhibition closed to the seem- 
ing satisfaction of all parties. Gustave 
counted three hundred and forty francs ; 
and, as soon as Oceanus could put off his 
disguise, the two friends sallied forth for 
the purpose of treating good luck to a good 
supper and good wine. 

SECTION VII. 

" ' I like the old woman's idea of the 
tail; you must have one!' said Gustave, 
as they walked along, arm in arm, in search 
of a restaurant. 

" ' It might have done very well to have 
begun with one, but now, those who have 
seen me will not be persuaded that so im- 
portant a piece of me can grow out in one 
night !' said Oceanus. 

" ' Never fear, man, you will see no old 
faces ; those who have paid one franc are 
not such fools as to pay a second ; I say 
you shall have a tail — a long, hairy tail I 
and I know who will make it — the perru- 
quier right over the way — it will not cost 
much !' said Gustave. 

" ' Well, just as you say ; you know the 
French people better than I do ; yet it is a 
speculation, and I hate speculations !' said 
Oceanus, thinking of his cotton. 

" ' It will be capital well invested !' said 
Gustave, as they entered the perruquier's 
shop. ' Monsieur Faussechevelure, can 
you make me a tail before morning T 

" ' I can make you a whole ga^on in one 
tenth of the tin.e !' said Monsieur Fausse- 
chevelure. 

" ' Fi ! monsieur, badinage aside ; I have 
done you many a good turn in the way of 
clipping off tails a la Chinois from young 
misses' heads of an evening, and now you 
shall return the favour by making me une 
grosse queue a la bobouin !' said Gustave. 

" The perruquier took Oceanus's meas- 
ure. 

" ' And now I will have some new affi- 



ches struck off, with a nota bene, thus : 
" 11 a une queue !" It will be money well 
laid out !' said Gustave. 

" ' Just as you say ; you know the 
French people better than I do,' said Oce- 
anus. 

" The affiches were ordered ; the printer 
promised to see them stuck up in all the 
public places before daylight ; and the two 
friends renewed their search for a supper. 

" ' Don't turn in there,' said Gustave, as 
Oceanus, leading the way, was about to 
descend into the cellar where he had the 
day before obtained a dinner which hunger 
made exquisite ; ' they will give you stew- 
ed cat for rabbit, and sour logwood for 
chateaux Margaux. That will do for a 
filthy vaurien, but we have money in our 
pockets, and it is money that makes a king. 
Faugh, how I hate a poor man !' and Gus- 
tave piloted his friend to the most fashion- 
able restaurant of the city. 

" Gustave entered the eating-house with 
an air of importance, seated himself at a 
vacant table, and, after a patronising man- 
ner, invited Oceanus, who had not yet lost 
the modesty of virtue, to take the chair 
opposite. A servant presented the carte 
du jour ; Gustave examined it carefully, 
gave vent to several terms of contempt, 
said it was a meager bill, and ordered 
' potage de tontue' for two. 

" ' Passable,' said Gustave, as he tasted 
the soup. Oceanus thought it delicious. 

"'Will you have anything morel' said 
the servant. 

" ' More !' exclaimed Gustave, fiercely ; 
' more ! Whom do you take us for 1 We 
have come to dine, sir ; we want a din- 
ner — a whole dinner — and one fit for a 
prince !' 

" The servant trembled for his place. 

" ' Coquille d' huitres and two bottles of 
Lafitte,' roared Gustave. 

" The oysters were excellent ; the wine 
better. 

" ' This will cost something,' said Ocea- 
nus. In his mind, it was possible the franc 
pieces might not hold out. 

" ' Tush ! we are lords ; money freely 
won should freely go,' said Gustave. ' Tru- 
ite a la Genoise, et Monies aux fines her- 
bes, with a bottle of Chably.' 

" ' Fine fish,' said Oceanus. 

" ' Tolerable," said Gustave. ' Let me 
give you a taste of this Chably.' 

"'Chably! what is Chably 1' inquired 
Oceanus. 

" ' I wish you would ask such questions 
in a lower tone,' said Gustave. ' Bceuf a 
la chicoree, with pommcs de terre an na- 
turel.' 

"'I have eaten almost enough,' said 
Oceanus. 

" ' Enough ! what a Hottentot ! We have 
but just begun,' said Gustave. ' Filet de 
bceuf aux truffcs • Oreille de veau au bcurre 



92 



NEW ORLEAN>^ AS I FOUND IT. 



noir ; Rognens au vin de Champagne ; 
Epinards au jus ; Chicoree a la cr^me ; 
and a bottle of Hochkeimer.' 

" The proprietor rubbed his hands ; an- 
other servant was added to the cortege of 
the two friends. 

"'I shall burst,' said Oceanus, forcing 
down a morceau of the filet de bceuf aux 
truffes much against his appetite. 

" ' Quel b6te ! Do the Tich leave off 
when hunger is satisfied ] Pish ! they don't 
know what hunger is. We are rising in 
the world. We have a character to sus- 
tain. Let me give you a glass of this 
Hochkeimer.' 

" Oceanus did not ask what it was, but 
looked imploringly towards the street. 

" ' You need not look in that direction ; 
you will not get away for an hour to come,' 
said Gustave, with rather a thick accent. 
'How d — d s-l-o-w these — hiccough — ser- 
v-a-n-t-s are ; sacre coquin ! I say, Mon- 
s-i-e-u-r Macaroni, you must ke-e-p — hic- 
cough — better servants.' 

" The proprietor bowed, made an humble 
apology, coolly stuck a fork in the back- 
side of one of the waiters, in order to 
quicken his pace, hoped the gentlemen 
were satisfied, and would continue to pat- 
ronise his establishment. 

" ' I don't know — hiccough — as to 
t-h-a-t," said Gustave ; ' P-i-g-e-o-n en — 
hiccough — cra-pau-dine ; but if you — hic- 
cough — canard a-u-x olives — we'll pat- 
ron-ise — hiccough — Truffes ranl^es au 
Champagne — me.' 

" ' May 1 be permitted to ask in what 
wayV said Monsieur Macaroni, with a look 
of astonishment. 

" ' A bottle of Madere,' cried Gustave, 
fiercely ; then, leaning across the table, he 
pulled Oceanus's nose. 'Wake up, my 
little cock of the walk.' 

" The proprietor returned to his desk. 

" ' Sacre nom de Dieu ! I was very near 
betraying — hiccough — the noble secret,' 
said Gustave, as Oceanus raised his eyes, 
heavy with an overcharged stomach, in 
answer to the gentle admonition of his 
friend. ' But it is safe yet, the old prig,' 
and he cast a furtive glance at the propri- 
etor. 

" ' Come, 0-c-e,' said Gustave, filling 
two tumblers with Madere, ' I'm not go- 
in-g — hiccough — to drink eight glasses to 
your one. Ay, this is it — this it is to live 
like a king — 1-i-k-e a — hiccough — little 
king — vive — hiccough — le Roi d'Yvetot !' 
and he broke forth into one of the deserv- 
edly most popular chansons of the most 
national poet of France. 

" Pierre Jean de Beranger is the most 
national of the poets of France, because 
he is the most original ; and he is the most 
original because his verse involves, to a 
greater degree than that of any other wri- 
ter, the possession of those mental quali- 



ties which characterize the French people. 
The nations of the earth are as widely sep- 
arated in manners and habits of thought 
as in language and government ; and it is 
a picture of those manners, and an exem- 
pHfication of those habits of thought which 
we first seek and most prize in the repre- 
sentatives of their literature. The poetry 
of Beranger is the mirror of French intel- 
lect ; and it is something more. There 
are mental qualities which belong to na 
one people — the heirlooms of genius, when- 
ever and wherever to be found. Inven- 
tion, fancy, enthusiasm, taste, sublimity, 
wit, humour, satire — these belong to man- 
kind ; and Beranger is possessor of them 
all. Their modifications, the peculiar 
modes and phases under which invention, • 
fancy, enthusiasm, taste, sublimity, wit, 
humour, and satire are evolved in litera- 
ture and the fine arts, belong to a people — 
and Beranger is France. 

" ' Vive le — hiccough — Roi d'Yvetot,' 
shouted Gustave. '0-c-e, wake — hic- 
cough — up, my 1-i-t-t-i-e man, and join in 
the chorus. 

"'Oh! oh! oh! oh! — hiccough — ah! ah! ah! ah! 
Quel bon petit roi c'etait la 
La — hiccough — la. 

" ' En avant, stand from under. 

" ' II etait un — hiccough — Roi d'Yvetot, 
Peu connu dans I'histoire, 
Se levant tard — hiccough — se couchant tot, 

Dormant fort bien sans gloire ; 
Et couronne par — hiccough — Jeanneton 
D'un simple bonnet de colon. 
Dit — hiccough — on. 
Oh! oh! oh !— hicco'ugh— oh ! ah! ah! ah! ah? 

Oce. 
Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! Oce. 
La — hiccough — la Oce. 

" ' You are in a monstrous — hiccough — 
hurry to get through with a good thing,' 
said Gustave to Oceanus, who came out a 
whole length ahead in the race of the cho- 
rus. 

" ' I did not know,' drawled out Oceanus, 
nodding, ' I did not know that my name 
was to be tacked on at the close of each 
line !' 

" ' Your name to — hiccough — be tacked 
— hiccough — on ! It was not— hiccough — 
Oce ; you are— hiccough— drunk, Oce.' 

" ' Not so far drunk as asleep,' said Oce- 
anus. 

" ' Vive le Roi d'Yvetot ! try it again — 
hiccough— Oce,' shouted Gustave. 

" ' II faisait ses quatre repas 

Dans son— hiccough— p-a-la-i-s de chaume, 
Et sur un ane, pas a pas. 

" ' Salmi de becassine ; olives farcies ; 
and a bottle of " Beaume.'" 

" ' Is that a part of the song V inquired 
Oceanus. 

"'WhyV said Gustave. 

" ' Because, if it is an order, I'm tight as 
a drum already,' said Oceanus 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



93 



*' ' Parcourait son royaume. 

Joyeux, simple, et — hiccough — croyant le bien, 
Pour toute garde il n'avait nen, 
Q'un — hiccough — chien. 

" ' Now then : 
•" Oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! Ah ! ah ! ah ! — hiccough— ah ! 
Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! Oce, 
La — hiccough — la ! 

" ' Oceanus, it is my solemn opinion that 
you have no literary taste,' said Gustave. 

" ' How can you expect a boy of my 
age, with his belly crammed full of French 
gimcracks, to have literary taste?* said 
Oceanus. ' Besides, John Eunyan— ' 

" ' Ay, there you are again, with your 
four — hiccough — saints; queer company 
for them — hiccough. Oce — come, taste 
this — hiccough — Beaume. 
*' ' II n'avait de gout oneneur, 
Qu'une soif un peu vive ; 

Mais, en — hiccough — rendant son peuple heureux, 
II faut bien qu'un roi vive.' 

" ' I believe I'll go,' said Oceanus, rising. 
" ' Lui-m6me, a table et sans suppot, 
Sur chaque nuit levait un pot 
D' — hiccough — impot. 
Oh! oh! go! go! ah! ah! ga ! — hiccough — ga! 

Oce. 
Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! 
Ga ! — hiccough — ga, Oce—' 

" A gentleman who sat at another table 
beckoned to M. Macaroni to come to him. 
M. Macaroni descended from his desk, 
walked to the gentleman, and they con- 
versed in an under tone together. 

" ' This is an unusual noise — a strange 
noise — a very extraordinary noise to be 
made in your highly-respectable establish- 
ment, Monsieur Macaroni,' said the gentle- 
man ; ' and I must say that I am greatly 
surprised thereat ; and farther, that if it is 
continued, I shall deem it advisable to walk 
out ; and farther, that if I walk out, I shall 
not conclude to return — I shall not, Mon- 
. sieur Macaroni !' 

" * Aux fiUes de bonnes maisoiis 

Comme il — hiccough — avail su plaise.' 

" ' I beg a thousand pardons, Monsieur 
Vinaigre,' said M. Macaroni, bowing with 
great humility. 

" ' Ses sujets — hiccough — avaient ceat raisoas.' 
" ' But these English milords — ' 
" ' Sucre lonnerre ! that fellow is not an 
Englishman,' said M. Vinaigre. 
" ' De le nommer leur p^re.' 
" ' The younger is, I know by his ac- 
cent ; and the elder must be, he eats and 
drinks so much !' said M. Macaroni. 
" ' D'ailleurs il ne levait de— hiccough — ban.' 
" ' Englishmen or devils, this is no place 
for a drunken carouse. Monsieur Maca- 
roni — ' 

" ' Que pour lirer, quatre fois I'an, 
Au— hiccough — blanc' 

" ' And since you are not inclined to keep 
order in your own house, I will — ' 
"'Oh! oh! go! go— hiccough— ah ' ah! ga! ga !' 



" ' Leave,' said M. Vinaigre, rising aft«r 
a very tempestuous manner. 
" ' My dear sir — ' 

" ' Quel bon petit roi — ' 
" ' Sit still for one little minute.' 

" ' C'etait la ! Oce—' 
" ' I will not sit still.' 

" ' La — hiccough — la ! Oce — * 
" ' The youngest is going.' 
" ' II n'agrandit — ' 
" ' And so am I.' 

" ' Hiccough— point ses etats— ' 
" ' And the oldest will soon — ' 

" ' Fut un voisin — ' 
" ' Be under the table.' 

" ' Commode — ' 
" ' Good-evening, Monsieur Macaroni.' 

" ' Et mo— hiccough — dele—' 
" ' I am, indeed, very sorry. Monsieur 
Vinaigre — ' 

" ' Des potentats — ' 

said M. Macaroni, gently detaining that 

gentleman, while he regarded him with a 

most lugubrious aspect ; ' but — ' 

" ' Prit le plaisir pour code — ' 

" ' These English milords pay so well.' 

" ' Ce n'est que — hiccough — ' 
" ' You will excuse me — ' 

" ' Lorsqu'il expira — ' 
" ' If I consult—' 

" ' Que le peuple qui I'e-n-t-e-r-r-a — ' 
" ' My own interest.' 

" ' Pleu — hiccough — ra. 
" Monsieur Vinaigre bounced out of the 
room looking daggers. 

" ' Will your lordships call for anything 
more?' inquired Monsieur Macaroni, in a 
very mild, insinuating tone of voice. 
"'Oh! oh!—' 
" ' Is your lordship unwell V 
"'No! no! — ' 

"' Will your lordship take another bottle 
of—' 

" ' Ah ! ah !— hiccough — ' 

" ' Jean, bring his lordship a bottle of 
that old—' 

'"Ha! ha!—' 

" ' Jean, his lordship has changed his 
mind ; you need not — ' 

" ' Quel bon petit r-o-i c'etait 1^ ! Oce, 
La! Oc-e— Ik!' 

drawled out Gustave, rising slowly to his 
feet, and reeling towards Oceanus, who 
stood with his back against the wall, his 
hat drawn down over his eyes, and more 
than half asleep, waiting the dissolution of 
the little King of yvet6t. 

" ' Oce, mon cher ami,' said Gustave, 
throwing his arms affectionately about the 
boy's neck, which he embraced more as a 
staff for support than from any promptings 
of affection; 'shall we — hiccough — have 
another b-o-u-l ? 



94 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



" ' On conserve en — hiccough— core le portrait.' 

" ' Yet again !' murmured Oceanus ; ' the 
little king dies hard.' 

" ' De ce d-i-g-n-e et bon prince,' 

continued Gustave, swinging to the right 
and left, while Oceanus's neck served as a 
centre. 

" ' D — n the song,' ejaculated Oceanus ; 
'it will never end !' It was the first time 
profanity ever stained his lips, and he re- 
members it, and will remember it forever. 

" ' Does my lord want anything V inqui- 
red M. Macaroni, who thought it good 
policy to remind his worthy patrons that 
they were still in his restaurant ; hoping 
that if their wants were fully supplied, they 
might begin to think of his own. 

" ' He wants grace,' said Oceanus. 

" ' Mon Dieu I I beg — a — thousand — par- 
dons, milord duke ; I am a little — blind ; 
I ought to have known— your grace's rank,' 
stammered M. Macaroni, bowing profound- 

ly- 

" ' I want — hiccough — your b-i-1-1,' said 
Gustave, giving over his affection for Ocea- 
nus's neck, much to the comfort of its pro- 
prietor, and turning full upon the bowing 
Frenchman, with his legs spread apart 
something after the style of the Colossus at 
Rhodes. 

" 'It is a trifle, milor — your grace, I 
mean ; a mere trifle ; only one hundred and 
twenty francs,' said M. Macaroni. 

" ' C'est I'enseign d'un cabaret.' 

" ' May it please your grace, I keep a 
restaurant,' said M. Macaroni. 

" ' Fameux dans la province.' 

" ' It is so,' said M. Macaroni. 

" ' It is — hiccough — what V demanded 
Gustave. 

" ' Just one hundred and twenty francs,' 
said M. Macaroni. 

" ' Count the — hiccough — money,' said 
Gustave, empty-ng the contents of one of 
his breeches pockets upon the table. 

" M. Macaroni made big eyes at the 
sight of so many franc pieces, concluded 
that his grace was a man of humour, and, 
as M. Macaroni was an honest man, and 
would not steal, he swept them off into a 
plate, and said it was all right. 

" ' Les jours de — hiccough — f6te, bien 
souvent,' continued Gustave, thrusting one 
of his own arms inside of another belong- 
ing to Oceanus, and moving in a zigzag line 
towards the door. 

" ' Glad to hear it ; hope your grace will 
always give me the preference,' said M. 
Macaroni, rubbing his hands one within the 
other. 

" 'La foule s'ecrie en — hiccough — bu- 
vant.' 

" ' No, no ; no crowd admitted into my 
establishment ; your grace will be entirely 
alone,' said M. Macaroni. 

" ' Hiccough — Devant.' 



" ' Yes ; everybody outside ; turn theia 
all out,' said M. Macaroni. 

" .' Oh ! oh ! ho ! ho ! Ah ! ah ! ha ! ha !' 

" ' Your grace is very facetious,' said M^ 
Macaroni. 

" ' Quel bon — hiccough— petit roi c'etait la !' 
" ' A very good little king,' said M. 
Macaroni. 
" ' La — hiccough — la !' 

" ' Quel bete !' exclaimed M. Macaroni, 
as the door closed upon his patrons. 

" ' How quiet the streets are !' said 
Oceanus. 

" ' Qui — hiccough — et ! yes ; everybody 
is drunk — dead d-r-u-n-k, like yourself, 
Oce. We'll wake them up ; we'll show 
them how to live — pah ! how I hate a 
poor — hiccough — man ! En avant. 
" ' Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, 

Mironton, mironton, miron— hiccough — taine, 

Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, 

Ne salt qu — hiccough — and reviendra.' 

" ' I have heard that tune before,' said' 
Oceanus. 

" ' Very 1-i-k-e ; 'tis older than both of us.^ 

" ' I have heard it in Mobile,' continued 
Oceanus. 

" ' Glad of it ; do you remem — hiccough 
— ber the words V 

" ' I think I do.' 

" ' Then join in. We'll wake them up.. 
En avant. 

" ' 11 reviendra z-k Jaques,' 
" ' Moll Brooks, she's gone to the army, 

" ' Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,' 
" ' She sold her buckles for brandy,' 

" ' 11 revivendra z — hiccough — a Jaques,*' 
" ' Her shoes for sugar-candy,' 

"'OualaT-r-in-i-t-6.' 
" 'I hope she'll never return.' 
" ' Bravo ! we'll wake 'em up !' cried" 
Gustave, too drunk to discern that Ocea- 
nus sung, not only words, but a language^ 
different from his own. 

" 'Are you not afraid the night air may 
injure your voice V said a gentleman who 
was connected with the police of the city, 
something of a humorist in his way, and 
one who took the world quietly. 

" Gustave had met with the gentleman's 
face before, and, drunk as he was, his blood 
ran cold when he felt the policeman's hand? 
upon his shoulder. 

" ' Can't I persuade you to pass the night 
with me V continued the policeman, closing, 
his fingers upon the collar of the vanupied'* 
coat. 

" ' What a nice city this Havre is !* 
thought Oceanus; 'the people are so at- 
tentive, and take so much interest in your- 
personal comfort!' 

" ' Jesu Maria ! what a clutch he has ! I 
must contrive some way to shake off this 
fungus of the law, or there is an end of the 
show !' thought Gustave. 

" ' Don't be bashful ; I can accommodate 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



93 



you both ; I know you wont refuse,' con- 
tinued the policeman. 

" ' By all means, accept monsieur's invi- 
tation ; remember we must otherwise sleep 
upon the show-room floor,' whispered Oce- 
anus, tucking his elbow into Gustavo's ribs. 

" ' You are an ass,' said Gustavo, in an- 
swer to Oceanus's whisper. 

" 'Who is an ass]' inquired the police- 
man, fiercely. 

" ' You !' said Gustave, ' and I will prove 
the fact to your satisfaction,' he continued, 
drawing a handful of franc pieces from his 
breeches pocket, and quietly transferring 
them into the unoccupied hand of the police- 
man. ' Haven't I the air of a gentleman ]' 

" ' You have the action of one,' said the 
policeman, releasing the vanupied's coat. 

" ' Will you do me the favour to go about 
your business?' said the vanupied, drawing 
a second handful of franc pieces from his 
pocket. 

" The policeman, who understood his 
duty, raised his hat, bowed very politely, 
received the second handful of franc pieces 
very gratefully, and, thrusting his fingers 
into the place where they came from, very 
adroitly relieved the vanupied of what re- 
mained of the proceeds of the day's exhi- 
bition. 

" Although Gustave was quite sobered by 
the policeman's presence, yet he feigned 
to be too drunk to observe that gentleman's 
last act of kindness, and having waited un- 
til he had put himself beyond ear-shot, he 
took his revenge in a volley of sacres. let 
off against the law generally, and its ad- 
ministrators in particular, interspersed 
with divers attempts to renew the "Mort 
et convoi de Tinvincible Malbrough," which 
as often failed for want of that spirit which 
wine had given, and a knowledge of the 
emptiness of his pockets had taken away. 

" ' What an air of authority you put on 
when talking to the policeman !' said Oce- 
anus, in his simplicity, as the two friends 
rolled themselves in a blanket upon the 
floor of the show-room. Having discov- 
ered the nature of that gentleman's office, 
he was wondering at their deliverance out 
of his hands. 

" ' And what an effect it had !' said Gus- 
tave. 

" ' Marvellous !' said Oceanus. 

" Gustave hummed a stanza of * Le Roi 
d'YvetOt' — that most admirable political 
satire upon the policy of the empire — and 
fell asleep. 

SECTION VIII. 

" The jolly sun rose laughing upon the 
second morningof the show, as if refreshed, 
and well content with his night's rest — the 
tearful Aurora had proved kind. The new 
affiches, in parti-coloured type, and nota 
bene, ' 11 a une queue !' stared from every 
corner upon the early risers of the city, 



whetting appetite with merriment. Ocea- 
nus and the vanupied were up betimes, and 
as they looked out upon the growing day, 
and saw the little knots of passers-by col- 
lected at the crossings, talking, gesticula- 
ting, their sides shaking with mirth, the 
fumes of the previous night's debauch 
passed away, or were forgotten in the 
hope and certainty of expected gain. The 
vanupied set the hall in order, while Ocea- 
nus, who was too grateful not to acknowl- 
edge both favours received and favours to- 
come, drew John Bunyan from his pocket,, 
and read a chapter against the vanity of 
wealth. 

" ' When you have done with your devo- 
tions, I will thank you to dress in charac- 
ter, and give me an opportunity to make 
fast to your hinder parts this magnificent 
tail,' said Gustave, holding up, for his- 
friend's admiration, the handiwork of the- 
perruquier, which a small boy had just de- 
livered, with a polite request that he would- 
return ten francs by the bearer. The little 
boy. could not reasonably expect to get what 
was- not to be had ; and as he was very im- 
portunate, and said he must otherwise take 
the tail back to his master, the vanupied 
very properly kicked him out of doors, and,, 
with a sangfroid peculiar to his constitu- 
tion, proceeded to exhibit the article as al- 
ready stated. 

" ' We will first take a little breakfast : 
very simple ; only a cup of coffee and a- 
mutton-chop,' said Oceanus, closing Joha 
Bunyan, and stroking down his stomach, 
which felt all the more hungry for being- 
over-stuffed the night before. 

"'Breakfast!' exclaimed Gustave, who 
had not a- sou in his pocket, and wished to- 
conceal from his friend so suspicious a 
fact. ' Breakfast ! One would have sup- 
posed that you had eaten enough at the 
restaurateur's to have kept you alive for a 
twelvemonth. No, no; business before- 
pleasure. It wants but fifteen minutes to 
eight, and at eight we receive visiters ; so 
come, my little wild man of the woods, 
stand up, and let me attach to your rump 
that most important member, which na- 
ture, in her haste, forgot to give to the hu- 
man family. So, tliere, ventre-bleu ! it 
fits charmingly ! 'Sblood, but that Mon- 
sieur Faussecheveleur is a genius !' 

" ' Why did you kick the little boy who 
brought it out of doors V inquired Oceanus, 
quietly, while he contemplated with mucli 
admiration the curious mechanism of his.' 
new appendage, which was so constructed" 
as to enable him to roll it up, and lash it 
about from side to side at pleasure. 

" ' Because he was impudent, and said 
the franc pieces I gave him were counter- 
feit,' said Gustave. 

" Oceanus was satisfied with Gustave's 
explanation of the motives which induced 
him to hasten the little boy's retreat, and 



96 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



dressed himself for the show, silently re- 
solving to give his appetite its revenge 
■when he next visited the establishment of 
Monsieur Macaroni. 

" Oceamis had resumed his former posi- 
tion at the foot of the hall, and the vanu- 
pied stood instructing him in the art of 
moving his tail in a life-like manner, so as 
to deceive the narrowest observer, when a 
lady and two gentlemen entered, and walk- 
ing warily down the room as if not well 
assured of their safety, inquired if a young 
American was to be exhibited there on that 
day. The vanupied, before answering the 
question, held out his hand, and receiving 
three francs, very politely replied that he 
had the inexpressible honour and distin- 
guished satisfaction of introducing to an en- 
lightened public the greatest natural curios- 
ity of the known world ! Immediately upon 
which speech, Oceanus, vvho, when he saw 
the lady and gentlemen enter the hall, had 
coiled up his tail nicely between his legs, 
suddenly deployed the same after the most 
"wonderful manner, throwing it about with 
great vigour, first over the right shoulder 
and then over the left, to the great aston- 
ishment of the two gentlemen, and no 
small terror of the lady. 

"'Moft DieuP exclaimed mademoiselle, 
recoiling a few steps, so as to place her- 
self beyond the reach of so formidable an 
instrument for attack, ' le farouche ! le 
sauvage ! what a tail !' 

" ' Don't be afraid, mademoiselle ; he 
won't hurt you; he is quite tame, and is 
chained,' said the vanupied, bowing and 
rubbing his hands with glee. Then turn- 
ing to the two gentlemen, ' Now, that is 
"what I call a tail !' said he, in a tone of tri- 
umph — ' such as no animal, except the na- 
tive American of the great Democratic Re- 
public, can produce !' 

" The two gentlemen were somewhat 
incredulous, and asked permission to ex- 
amine more clo.^oly, and by touch, so 
strange an appendage of the human form ; 
but Oceanus beginning to look fierce, and 
shake his chain, and growl a little, and 
the lady objecting to the experiment, ex- 
pressing much fear lest the tail might have 
a sting in it, while the vanupied said that 
lie would not be answerable for the conse- 
<}uences, they were content to remove a 
little farther off, and look at the monster 
through an opera-glass. 

" The curious now poured in, and the 
vanupied was too busily engaged in the 
pleasurable occupation of receiving franc 
pieces to respond to the many inquiries of 
those whose inquisitiveness was of that 
kind which usually destroys its possessor's 
happiness. All that is beautiful in imagin- 
ation, all the creations of fancy, the myri- 
ads of joyous spirits which of old peopled 
the air, the earth, and the water, have dis- 
appeared, or are fast disappearing, before 



the rude attacks of advancing knowledge ; 
and hiiving destroyed the source of more 
than half of our intellectual enjoyments, 
we live in a matter-of-fact world, the re- 
cipients of matter-of-fact pleasures, be- 
cause we are unwilling to live deceived 
where wisdom is foolishness. 

" One wished to know if the Americans 
could talk, while another assured the look- 
ers-on that we were quite an intelligent 
people, considering that we lived entirely 
on one side of the world ; and that it was 
our dexterity in the use of the remarkable 
limb which excited their astonishment that 
carried us triumphantly through the Revo- 
lution. A miss, of some fourteen years, 
and great simplicity of manners, asked 
if the American ladies also had tails ; and 
a very promising youth, of about the same 
age, vvho knew everything, replied that he 
rather suspected they had. Many other 
similar questions were asked, and answers 
given, which discovered no small degree 
of intelligence, and were no otherwise dis- 
agreeable, excepting that they compelled 
Oceanus to carry his tail in his mouth for 
many minutes together to stifle laughter. 
While the good people of Le Havre were 
thus showing themselves to be possessed 
of that accuracy of information touching 
the great Democratic Republic which dis- 
tinguishes Europeans in general, a gentle- 
man of colour entered the hall, thereby 
proving that a love of knowledge is com- 
patible with a black skin. The vanupied 
smacked his lips when he received the 
gentleman of colours franc piece, for he 
believed that Oceanus was too quick-wit- 
ted to let such an opportunity to prove at 
least one of the truths set forth in their 
affiche pass unimproved ; and he was not de- 
ceived in his estimate of his friend's parts. 

" No sooner had Oceanus put his eyes 
upon the black gentleman than a sudden 
change swept over his countenance and 
seized upon his whole frame. Amenity 
of manners, and a seeming mildness of 
disposition, were exchanged for the feroci- 
ty of the bull-dog. He growled, stamped, 
rattled his chain, and made, apparently, 
the most violent efforts to break from the 
staple to which he was fastened. The 
good people of Le Havre there present, 
not discerning the exciting cause of the 
monster's rage, were panic-struck, and, 
retreating towards the entrance of the hall, 
called upon the vanupied to quiet their 
fears. The black gentleman, whose curi- 
osity was as yet fresh and unabated, look- 
ing upon Oceanus's activity as a part of 
the show, retained his position, and now 
stood in advance of the whole company. 
The vanupied drew an affiche from his 
pocket, and reading aloud the passage, ' II 
ne mange que des negres vivants et du ta- 
bac,' pointed to the black gentleman. The 
whole company simultaneously rushed for- 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



97 



ward to his rescue. The ladies — God bless 
them, they are always before us in deeds 
of charity — were the first to lay hold of 
him. The black gentleman remonstrated ; 
he had been in America, had seen some- 
thing of slavery, and knew better. Ocea- 
nus growled ; the women, if they had not 
been in America, and had seen nothing of 
slavery, had read horrid tales of its abuses, 
^nd were vociferous ; the men, acting in 
-the cause of humanity, which looked both 
ways, and did not permit them to forget 
self, seized their victim by the shoulders 
and pitched him into the street ; while the 
-vanupied said he was very sorry, but, in- 
deed, he did not observe the gentleman 
when he came in, or he should have pre- 
vented so untoward an accident ; asked a 
thousand pardons, and requested a poor 
devil present, connected with the press, to 
give an account of the affair in his morn- 
ing paper, as a warning to such respectable 
•coloured gentlemen as might happen to be 
then in the city. 

" Oceanus had not yet laid aside his fe- 
rocity, and his visiters were still talking 
of the unfortunate black, saved by their 
disinterested benevolence from an unnatu- 
ral grave, when one entered whose franc 
piece the vanupied received with many 
misgivings. The new-comer carried a 
large store of mischief in the corner of his 
eye, and a large roll of tobacco under his 
arm. It was the old gentleman with a 
cane, who had poked fun at Oceanus the 
day before by poking his stick most un- 
mercifully into his ribs. To the vanupied 
the heavens looked lowering ; he expected 
a squall, and followed close at the old gen- 
tleman's heels, prepared with ready wit to 
parry any thrust which he might make at 
the vitality of the exhibition. It was a loss 
to the vanupied ; for many came in, and 
finding no one at the door to receive their 
franc pieces, very honestly returned the 
money to their pockets, and said no more 
about it. The old gen^eman made his 
way through the spec tat *-s, who stretched 
dense across the centre of the hall, and, 
although warned by many friendly voices, 
among which that of the vanupied was not 
the least earnest, of the danger to which 
he exposed himself, considering the mon- 
ster's present appetite for blood, he walk- 
ed deliberately onward, with the bundle of 
tobacco under his arm, as if determined to 
test still farther the truth of the cited pas- 
sage of the affiche, ' II ne mange que des 
negres vivants, et du tabac' 

" Oceanus recognised his old enemy at a 
fiance ; and as it is ever the best policy to 
.forestall attack by carrying the war at 
«nce into Africa, he did not wait a renew- 
al of the old gentleman's tricks, but, when 
he found him within reach of his tail, gave 
him so smart a blow over the right ear 
with that instrument, that he spun round 
N 



like a top, and ended with dancing a horn- 
pipe, much after the lively manner of his 
younger days, and to the infinite diversion 
of the lookers-on, all of whom were well 
pleased to see their warnings thus summa- 
rily verified. The vanupied approached 
the old gentleman, asking a thousand par- 
dons, and endeavoured to lead him away; 
but the old gentleman's nose was not made 
of wax ; a visitant of the day before, he 
had not been induced to make a second 
call by the remarkable fact set forth in the 
nota bene of the second affiche, which, in- 
deed, he had not read, but he wished quiet- 
ly to expose an imposture to wliich the ig- 
norance and prejudices of his fellow-citi- 
zens alone gave vogue. The blow which 
he had received, together with the instru- 
ment with which it was given, went far to 
unsettle the old gentleman's skepticism — 
an effect which was not a little aided by 
the cat-like manner in which Oceanus cel- 
ebrated his victory — swinging his tail from 
side to side, curling it about his body, and 
waving it above his head with an air of 
triumph, which spoke eloquently in favour 
of its genuineness. But the old gentle- 
man, willing to examine farther before 
parting with his doubts, and scrutinizing 
the object of his surprise for a moment in 
silence, ' Est il possible !' he exclaimed, 
turning to the vanupied; 'did that tail 
grow out in one night !' 

" The vanupied assured him that Ocea- 
nus was born with it. 

" The old gentleman remonstrated, as- 
serting that, on the day before, the monster 
was not possessed of so curious an ap- 
pendage. 

" The vanupied appealed to the company 
present to contradict the old gentleman's 
calumnies ; and as not one of them had 
seen Oceanus before, they all agreed that 
the old gentleman was in error. ' It is 
more than probable,' said the vanupied, 
' that the monster carried his tail between 
his legs when you first visited him.' Oce- 
anus took the hint, and coiling the mem- 
ber up, packed it away very nicely out of 
sight. The company gave a shout of ap- 
plause, and the vanupied smiled compla- 
cently upon the old gentleman, as much 
as to say, ' Go on, old quiz, I am secure of 
the victory!' 

" ' Will you do us tlie favour to feed 
your beast r said the old gentleman, gath- 
ering up the tobacco, wliich had been wide- 
ly scattered over the floor in the scene of 
the hornpipe. 

" ' With great pleasure ; yet at such 
times vivid recollections of home are ex- 
cited, and he is apt to be rather wild and 
unmanageable !' said tlie vanupied, with an 
appealing look at the women. 

'• But the desire to see the monster eat 
overcame the fears of the tender sex, and 
the vanupied was compelled to trust to his 



98 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



companion's wit to evade the snare which 
the old gentleman had so cunningly devi- 
sed. Oceanus was not wanting in strate- 
gy ; he seized with avidity the first leaf 
presented for his consideration by the va- 
nupied, scented it, turned up his nose at it, 
tasted it, ejected the contents of his mouth, 
and ended with throwing it under his feet, 
and trampling on it with great rage. 

" ' This tobacco is very much damaged !' 
said the vanupicd to the old gentleman ; 
' do you wish to poison my animal by giv- 
ing him a rotten weed V 

" The company all agreed that the to- 
bacco was in a very damaged condition, 
and much admired the wonderful sagacity 
which had enabled the monster to detect 
the fraud. 

" ' Give the monster another leaf ; it may 
prove better!' said the old gentleman. 

" Oceanus received the second as he had 
received the first ; but, in his anxiety to 
exhibit a degree of fury which would deter 
a third trial of the strength of a stomach 
which began already to feel somewhat 
squeamish, his tail uncoiled itself, and lay 
extended upon the floor of the hall, mo- 
tionless, like a snake gorged with food. 
The old gentleman noticed the tail's expo- 
sed situation, and, without being observed 
either by the vanupied or by Oceanus, ad- 
vanced a step, and planted his foot upon 
the end of it. 'The second leaf appears 
to be as bad as the first!' said the old gen- 
tleman, throwing his whole weight upon 
that foot which rested on the tail, and grin- 
ning, winking, and blinking at the compa- 
ny, who were much surprised to see tliat 
the monster did not resent such a liberty 
taken with the most important part of his 
person. 

'•'Give him a third leaf; tobacco is an 
excellent narcotic and blunter of the feel- 
ings !' said the old gentleman, dancing up 
and down, while the tail cracked bene;ith 
his step, as if it," indeed, possessed bones 
to be broken. 

" The company laughed. The vanupied, 
discernmg the cause of their merriment, 
turned pale with fear, then red with rage, 
while Oceanus, still ignorant of the fate 
which impended over him, played the wild 
monster with pantomimic grace. The com- 
pany were about to go over to the old gen- 
tleman and declare openly in his favour, 
when the miss of some fourteen years, and 
great simplicity of maimers, who had read 
Cooper's novels through the medium of a 
translation, said ' that she was now con- 
vinced the monster was a genuine speci- 
men of tlie American citizen, for that all 
who have written upon the subject assert 
that the Americans are long-suffering, and 
wonderfully patient of corporeal torment!' 
Tliis remark turned the tide of opinion back 
to its former channel. The old gentleman 
was requested, in a very rough manner, to 



keep his feet at home, and told that he 
would be expected to foot the physician's 
bill, inasmuch as the monster's tail appear- 
ed to be so greatly injured as to render it 
impossible for him to coil it up and stow it 
away in its proper place. Its mechanism 
was indeed destroyed, so that Oceanus 
had no longer absolute command over its 
movements ; yet the vanupied triumphed, 
and was about to resume his station at the 
entrance of the hall, when his steps were 
arrested by a small piping voice, which 
was more to be feared than all the sly in- 
sinuations and systematic attacks of his 
implacable enemy, the old gentleman with 
the cane. The perruquier's little appren- 
tice, whom the vanupied had kicked into 
the street just before opening his show in 
the morning, was not wanting in that per- 
severance which distinguishes a French 
dun, and finding, upon his return, the en- 
trance clear, he had slipped in and quietly 
taken a position in the crowd, just behind 
the old gentleman. He had been an atten- 
tive listener to all that was said, and an at- 
tentive observer of all that passed between 
the vanupied and his antagonist, and when 
the former turned upon his heel, snapping 
his fingers in the exultation of success, he 
concluded that it was the fittest occasion 
for him to speak, and advancing a step or 
two in front of the company, he looked up 
into the vanupied's face, crying out, at the 
top of his lungs, 'Master says if you don't 
send him them ten francs for that tail, toute 
suite, he will send a lawyer after you — 
that he will!' 

" The vanupied boiled with rage ; Ocea- 
nus turned pale ; the company looked sur- 
prised ; the little apprentice trembled in his 
shoes ; the old gentleman's eyes twinkled. 

" ' What tail, my little fellow V said the 
old gentleman, in a tone of encouragement. 

" ' Th-the t-tail th-that the sh-shovT 
wears,' stammered out the little apprentice. 

"The old gentleman sprang forward, 
seized the tail with both hands, and with 
one jerk cleared it from the monster's pos- 
teriors. The company gave a shout, and 
rushed upon the impostors. The men 
cursed, the women shrieked, and the vanu- 
pied, owing to his skill in ground and lofty 
tumbling, and long exercise in threading 
blind alleys, and dodging round sharp cor- 
ners, found his way unscathed to the door, 
and passed into the street, taking with him 
all the franc pieces he had received : an 
act of forgetfulness which must be attrib- 
uted to the hurry of his departure. 

" Oceaims was less fortunate. His pow- 
ers of locomotion were paralyzed by the 
sudden turn which events had taken ; 
crushing to earth his growing hopes of 
wealth, and adding to poverty the shame 
of detected imposition. The men fell upon 
him ; the old gentleman repaid the tap 
over the ear which he had received, with 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Si&" 



ttiany a thwack of the tail which had given 
It ; every one bestowed upon him at least 
one blow and a kick, while none were so 
liberal of such favours as those who had 
been doubly disappointed by paying no fee 
at the entrance. The poor boy was finally 
thrust out of doors, soundly belaboured, 
bruised in every limb, bellowing with pain, 
nis dress hanging in tatters about his per- 
son, and his pockets none the heavier for 
nis temporary success in this his second 
speculation. A mob gathered routld the 
hall, all eager to learn the news ; all talked, 
and none listened ; they swayed to and fro, 
hustled each other about, and gave the 
young scape-grace an opportunity to draw 
oft' unnoticed. 

'• Oceanus fled — where ! Whither should 
he fly, but to his element ? The salt sea 
would heal his wounds, collect his scattered 
thoughts, and aid in forming a plan for fu- 
ture action ; so he ran down to the harbour, 
stripped, and plunged in. When he touched 
the water, hope revived, and joy came back 
and nestled in his bosom. As a spoiled 
child, who has quarrelled with his play- 
mates, seeks his mother's lap and finds 
elysium in her fond caresses, so Oceanus 
was happy again, and rolled, and tumbled, 
and stretched himself out in the lap of the 
sea, until he laughed from very pleasure, 
■forgot his late evils, and looked only at 
the future, which, to the young, is always 
oright. 

'• The game which he had played was 
lost ; it was dishonest, and therefore well 
lost. Oceanus is not of an evil temper ; 
he has less of Adam's sin about him than 
any boy I ever met with. He conceived 
and executed the scheme of the show un- 
der the pressure of want ; and want often 
compels a good man to do many bad things. 
Oceanus had received the wages of vice, 
and he resolved to work no longer for such 
a paymaster. But he must do something, 
or starve. There he was, a second time 
immersed in the waters of the harbour, as 
poor and much less whole of skin than 
when he first resorted to them for conso- 
lation and reflection. He feared to remain 
in Le Havre — how was he to get out of it 1 
Le Havre is largely engaged in the whale- 
fisheries. It is a place of oil, and many 
staves are annually shipped from this city 
for that market, where they are manufac- 
tured into casks. Two ships — whalers — 
AVere in port, ready fitted for sea ; with a 
fair wind, they were to leave on the mor- 
row. Oceanus was more than two thirds 
inclined to put his name upon the rule 
d'equipage of one of them, but recollecting 
that, soon after his arrival in Le Havre, he 
Was present when their owners purchased 
a cargo of staves, counting one hundred 
and twenty for a hundred, he concluded 
that a busine/is which admitted of sucii a 
reckoning was not the most honest that a 



man might be engaged in. Paris ! He 
had heard much of Paris while at Le Ha- 
vre ; Paris, he had been told, was France : 
what could he not do if once in that city 
of all the people of the earth ? London is 
England, Madrid is Spain, but Paris is 
more than France ; all languages are spo- 
ken in its streets, all nations are repre- 
sented in its population, and Oceanus could 
not do better, in his own mind, than add 
one to its thousands. He resolved to hunt 
up the vanupied, demand his share of the 
show's receipts, take a diligence, and drive 
to Paris. Poor Oceanus, he was not yet 
sufficiently a moralist to understand that 
the reception of the wages of sin is as 
criminal as the act which earns them. 
He left the water, put on his tattered 
clothes, and went in search of the vanu- 
pied. The vanupied sat counting his franc 
pieces upon the little stone step, deep 
within the retired and dark alley to which 
Oceanus had led him when he first made 
known to that worthy confident, counsel- 
lor, and abettor, his project of the show. 
There he was found by Oceanus, after a 
weary search through many of the other 
by-places of the city, still counting and re- 
counting his franc pieces. Oceanus raa 
towards his friend with a shout of recog- 
nition, and a hearty ' How are ye, Gustave 1' 
The vanupied hastily gathered up • his 
franc pieces, and thrust them into hiS' 
pocket. Oceanus extended his hand, with' 
congratulations upon their mutual escape. 
The vanupied rose slowly from his seat, 
and, examining the tattered Oceanus from 
head to foot, remarked, ' that he had no^ 
recollection of ever having seen him be-' 
fore !' Oceanus stood mute with aston- 
ishment. The vanupied commenced whis- 
tling the ' Mort et convoi de I'invincible 
Malbrough.' ' What !' exclaimed Oceanus, 
recovering his voice, ' you will not cheat 
me out of my share of the spoils V The 
vanupied coolly knocked him down, and- 
walked away. 

" Oceanus got up, concluded that friend- 
ship is sometimes a synonyme of self-in- 
terest, relinquished his idea of travelling to 
Paris in the diligence, walked down to the 
Seine, and bartered with one of the many 
little coches which ply upon that river, for' 
his carriage to the capital, in exchange for- 
his labour at the oar." 



CHAPTER XIX. 

OCEANUS IN PARIS. 
The Leprous Infections of Paris. 
" This part of the country was much more civil- 
ized, and it maybe presumed that vice had kept pace 
with civilization." — Quarterly Review. 

* ARGUMENT. 

Paris. — Oceanus's arrival in that City. — Oceanus at 
a Loss. — The Brunette. — Oceanus in Love — Oce- 
anus enters into Service. — Oceanus transformed. 



100 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



— Oceanus incurs the Displeasure of his Mistress. 
— Oceanus in the Hands of the Police.-^Jacques, 
the Spruce-looking young Gentleman. — Jacques 
at his Rooms. — Jacques's Address upon Wealth. — 
Jasmin. — Jacques and Oceanus's Plan for acqui- 
ring Riches. — Trouve. — The Affiche. — Jacques 
dismisses Oceanus. — Paul de Kock. — Oceanus be- 
comes the Protege of Paul. — Fenelon. — Oceanus 
reads the French Classics. — Balzac. — Oceanus re- 
solves to return to his Uncle. — He takes Leave of 
Paul. — He ships for New Orleans. 

SECTION IX. 

The shadows of the evening had closed 
imperceptibly around us. The lawyer had 
talked well, accompanying his story with 
a sort of running commentary upon the 
text ; the doctor and myself had listened 
■well, and we had all drank well of good 
wine. But the wine was of one kind only ; 
and good wine, unmixed, will hurt no one. 

The lawyer proposed that we should 
rise from the table, saying that he would 
give us the remainder of Oceanus's history 
at another time. 

" No time like the present, when you 
are in the humour for story-telling, and we 
are in the humour for listening," said the 
doctor, pushing the bottle towards his 
friend. 

If I could give the lawyer's manner, his 
acting, as I have given his words, the read- 
er would not be surprised that I should 
have joined the doctor in his request, and 
asked for an immediate continuance of the 
story. 

The doctor ordered lights, coffee, and ci- 
gars ; the lawyer could not complain of 
his audience, and resumed his narrative of 
the adventures of young Oceanus after his 
own way, with an apostrophe to Paris, in- 
terspersed with observations, which ap- 
peared to be more particularly addressed 
to the doctor and myself. 

" Paris !" said the lawyer ; " and what 
could Oceanus do in Paris ? What could 
he do but take new lessons in vice 1 Vice, 
more artificial i.; its appearances, more re- 
fined, and therefore more seductive. Par- 
is is the world. In it are to be found ab- 
ject want and bloated superfluity ; utter 
barbarism and the most perfect civiliza- 
tion ; universal skepticism, which blots out 
God, the living principle of all things, and 
the blindest superstition, which makes a 
God of nothing ; all in the extreme, and 
all equally removed from that point of rest 
which the Creator fixed in the beginning, 
when he made man the recipient equally 
of sensual and of intellectual pleasures, and 
gave to neither the ascendency. There 
goodness is to be foinid almost pure and 
unmixed; and wickedness, also, almost 
pure and unmixed, with every grade which 
shades the two into each other. There 
may be found the chastity of Lucretia and 
the prostitution of Theodora— faugh ! mor- 
tality in the charnel-house is less repulsive 
than the chamelles of its suburbs. In Par- 



is the philosopher is a sensualist, and the 
sensualist is a philosopher. The intellect 
of the philosopher is blinded by its own 
brilliancy, and after groping about for a 
time in the upper air, descends to the earth 
and grapples with matter. The sensualist 
is a philosopher from refinement, from ad- 
vance in knowledge, from the same causes 
which have made the cooks of Paris chem- 
ists, and the tailors, and hatters, and shoe- 
makers of Paris artists— and the sensual- 
ist is a gainer by his philosophy. He lives 
longer, husbands his health, husbands his 
sources of enjoyment, and therefore en- 
joys more. He has reduced pleasure to a 
system — does not destroy by overtasking 
its instruments ; is not a debauchee in 
wine, nor in women, nor in anything. He 
does not gorge himself with meat, like an 
Englishman, nor with drink, like a German, 
that both his intellectual and physical pow- 
ers may lie torpid for a season, anaconda- 
like, never again to recover their former 
strength, nor their former delicacy of per- 
ception — he knows better. The sensual- 
ist of Paris has gained by philosophy, and 
the philosopher of Paris has lost by sensu- 
ality — I might say sensualism, coining a 
word for a new science — and in that 
way, like two farmers driving a bargain, 
they have chalked up to each other. In 
Paris, the influence of philosophy — French 
philosophy, tlie philosophy of Voltaire, 
Condorcet, Diderot, the philosophy of the 
Encyclopaedists, which, like paint cast 
into living water, has flowed down and 
tainted the stream to our time — is to be 
detected in the every-day affairs of life. 
If the trades are affected by it, so is the 
domestic circle, and the thousand relations 
springing from social intercourse. If it 
shapes the public morals, so does it the 
private : the wife makes it the test of the 
duties she owes her husband, and the maid 
of the purity of her chastity. What pol- 
lutes the body does not pollute the mind, 
is the first and most false of its maxims. 
It stains French literature. The cultiva- 
ted are affected by it, and know it ; the ig- 
norant are affected by it through the culti- 
vated, and do not know it. Like a part of 
the air, it pervades all things, and pene- 
trates all things : the most spotless ermine 
upon the bench, and the vilest pad in the 
city's kennels. It dims virtue, and renders 
vice more brazen. Such is Paris ! hollow 
and rotten in all its ramifications — as hoi 
low and as rotten as civilization must ever 
be when pleasure, intellectual and seiisual, 
is the sole object of its pursuits. 

" And what could Oceanus do in Paris \ 
There are not many of the wise, nor many 
of the virtuous, who visit that city and 
leave it without taint. A boy of thirteen 
years, in want, alone, and unprotected, 
may be said to have done well if he es- 
l caped a moral death. After a voyage of 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



101 



five days, in the course of which he neces- 
sarily passed Rouen, he arrived at the 
great heart of the world just as night had 
settled down upon it. No sooner did his 
foot touch the stone steps near the Marche- 
au-fleur than he bid adieu to the master 
and his fellow-labourers of tbe coche. He 
owed them nothing, for he had toiled at 
the oar for his passage. He might have 
rested with his late companions for the 
night, but he was young, and youth loves 
liberty, and youth is brave, never more so 
than when thrown upon its own resources. 
Besides, Oceanus, in the course of his voy- 
age upon the Seine, gave in sundry times 
to instinct, leaped into the water, passed 
under the boat, sprang aboard, and resumed 
his position at the oar, with all the sang- 
froid of an old sailor drinking his accus- 
tomed allowance of grog ; an evolution 
which, although it gave him pleasure, 
roused his spirits, and secured health, filled 
his companions first with anxiety for his 
safety, then with wonder, and at last with 
superstition ; so that they both hated and 
feared him as something supernatural : a 
doubt which the captain very worthily en- 
deavoured to remove by an active disci- 
pline, enforced in the shape of cuffs applied 
to the boy's ears, and kicks pointedly ad- 
dressed to the region of his hinder parts. 
At Rouen, too, where the coche halted for 
a few hours, Oceanus was desirous of re- 
plenishing his pockets by an exhibition 
similar to that which he had given in the 
port of Le Havre, a proposition which the 
master answered with one of his knock- 
down arguments, logically enforced upon 
the poor youth's scull. We need not won- 
der, then, that the boy, though moneyless 
and hungry, was willing to leave such 
friends at the stone steps near the Marche- 
au-fleur, and of two evils, choose the most 
uncertain. 

" Oceanus was now in the city which he 
had sought for the same reason that a 
moth seeks the candle ; and it was no fault 
of his if he left it without being pretty well 
scorched. If misfortunes try the mind as 
fire tries gold, his must be something more 
than twenty-two carats fine. The streets 
were full of life and bustle, the shops well 
lighted, and novelty, in its most brilliant 
shapes, so engrossed his attention as to 
stifle, for a time, all consciousness of his 
real condition : a solitary wanderer in the 
midst of a desert. He walked on, gazing 
about on every side ; the faces around 
were happy, or seemed to be so ; all talk- 
ed, joyously and loud, mostly in French, 
but every language had its representative. 
A thrill of pleasure passed through and 
possessed his nerves ; he thought not of 
the morrow — sufficient unto the day is the 
evil thereof— he thought not of the night, 
for hunger and weariness were subdued by 
a stronger feeling, and to his young ima- 



gination so much of beauty, though it flow- 
ed in a thousand streams, could not pass 
away in a few hours. He walked on, turn- 
ing to the right and left, and threading 
many a street as chance led him, or a pret- 
ty face, or a loud voice, or a petty broil, 
beckoned to him, till the lights began to 
grow dim, the ways more clear, the pas- 
sengers more hurried in their steps, and 
the guardians of the night more circum- 
spect in their investigations. The patient 
will live while the fever is on him, but 
when it leaves him, he often sinks for 
want of excitement. Curiosity requires its 
aliment, and darkness and loneliness are 
not its best food ; so Oceanus found it, and 
when curiosity left him, hunger and wea- 
riness returned. 

" He sat himself down upon a small step 
near the corridor or grand entrance of one 
of those large hotels which disfigure Paris, 
and serve, not as the homes — a Parisian 
knows not what home is — but as the ken- 
nels of one half of its population. There, 
the rich and the poor enter, as they enter 
the world, through the same gate ; and are 
distinguished from each other by the floors 
they occupy. The poor mount highest, 
reversing, in that respect, the ordinary 
etiquette of societj% and assuming in this 
world that position which has been prom- 
ised to them as an heritage hereafter. 

" Reflection now came to him, and sat 
down at his side. What was he to do in 
Paris? He could not answer that ques- 
tion. Why was he there 1 Because he 
had deserted his ship ; and he deserted his 
ship from false shame. It was something 
to know the origin of the evils which had 
overtaken him ; but pride would not per- 
mit him to retrace his steps ; so, like a 
mule, which, when it has put one foot into 
the mire, will never draw back until it has 
brought the other three into the same pre- 
dicament, he resolved to bring his nose 
still nearer to the grindstone. A lamp 
hung from the arch at the entrance or 
grand passage-way of the hotel, and Oce- 
anus drew ' Tom Jones' from his pocket, 
and ran over its pages as a mariner runs 
over his chart ; he was lost upon land, and 
sought in that rich store-house of worldly 
maxims rules of conduct which should pi- 
lot him safely over the unknown ground 
he was treading. But when the heart is 
heavy, the wisdom of this world is foolish- 
ness ; so he soon put aside ' Tom Jones,^ 
and opening the New Testament, read the 
parable of the prodigal son. The applica- 
tion was not difficult, and Oceanus burst 
into tears. Is it not strange that when a 
good angel is whispering at one ear, the 
devil should be whispering at the other? 
Oceanus sprang to his feet ; he would seek 
the stone steps near the Marche-au-fl<^ur, 
return in the coche, with his late hard 
master, to Le Havre, and ship for the near- 



102 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



est home port, repentant for the past, and 
resolved to do better in the future. ' My 
uncle will fors^ive me,' said he, as he put his 
right foot forward. ' And who is your un- 
cle, paiivre gar^on ■?' inquired a pretty bru- 
nette of some sixteen summers, with a full, 
■well-turned figure, jauntily set off by a toi- 
let which discovered taste, a small, round, 
plump face, and large gazelle eyes that 
sparkled in the light of the lamp, and seem- 
ed to give back more of brilliancy than 
they borrowed. Oceanus's good resolu- 
tions passed away as they came ; the off- 
spring of emotion, they died with the feel- 
ing which created them. ' Who is your 
uncle, mon cher petit amil' repeated the 
pretty brunette, who had approached Oce- 
anus unobserved, and now stood directly 
before him, blocking his way, and looking 
full into the boy's face. Oceanus looked 
modestly down upon the pavement, made 
hieroglyphics with the toe of his shoe, and 
answered the question. 

" ' And what brought you over so many 
jniles of water to Paris ?' asked the brunette. 
" Oceanus looked into the brunette's 
«yes, and saw something there more than 
pity ; a thread of fire ran rapidly along 
through all his limbs, while the blood 
mounted to his temples, and his heart beat 
so irregularly and so violently as nearly 
to deprive him of utterance. To him it was 
a new sensation ; he did not understand it ; 
it was enough, that under its influence he 
forgot everything but the beautiful object 
before him, and lost every anxiety except 
the fear lest that object might leave him. 
He had entered upon a new existence. 
He felt, yet was ignorant of the nature of 
the change. He dashed asi ie his tears, 
"was ashamed of his late weakness, and 
assumed the front of courage ; for love 
inspires a courage equal to any evil. He 
became reconciled to himself, to every 
one ; even his last master of the coche he 
no longer hated, for love is wondrous kind. 
Love is the creative spirit, ever fresh, and 
ever young ; always beginning, never end- 
ing ; antagonistical, yet most harmonious ; 
Protean, yet always the same ; weak, yet 
stronger than the angels which surround 
the throne. What water is to the diamond, 
love is to the soul : it gives to it its purity, 
brilliancy, worth. Oceanus took the pretty 
brunette's liand in his, and asked her to sit 
down with him upon the step, and he would 
tell her the whole of his story. The pretty 
brunette smiled at the boy's simplicity, and 
said it was too cool to remain in the open 
air, and that she was weary and hungry. 
* I have not had supper ; have you, mon 
pauvre gargonV Oceanus shoidd have 
been hungry also ; he had been long enough 
■without eating ; he certainly was so before 
a stronger feeling had taken possession of 
his breast, and he answered in the negative. 
The pretty brunette said he should mount 



to her chamber — it was upon the fifth floor 
of the hotel before which they were stand- 
ing — and sup with her. How could he re- 
fuse ? He held her hand in his ; it was a 
small, plump, soft hand ; and when she 
moved, he would not have loosed his hold 
for the world : so she drew him after her, 
as with a silken cord, up four flights of 
stairs, into tiie neat, airy apartment she 
occupied. 

" The room had two small dormitories 
attached to it, both of which the brunette 
threw open, in order to show Oceanus how 
comfortably she lived. One was applied 
to its proper use, and contained a low 
French bedstead, an armour, a mirror, a 
dressing-table, queer-looking chairs which 
might be turned into many shapes, together 
with whatever else would be looked for in 
a small but luxuriously furnished sleeping 
apartment ; the other was well stocked 
with the furniture and the dainties of the 
table, and was at one and the same time 
both kitchen and pantry, while it served 
occasionally as a wine-house, and was not 
unfrequently the refuge of an intriguant. 

" The brunette soon covered a small 
round table — it was made for two — which 
stood in the centre of the larger chamber, 
with good substantial food, in the shape of 
a cold boiled chicken, a ham which had 
not been more than twice cut, two loaves 
of bread, and two bottles of claret. Ocea- 
nus sat down opposite to his young hostess, 
and she did the honours of her table with 
a generous hand. Oceanus's appetite re- 
turned with remarkable strength, and he 
ate faster, and longer, and consequently 
more than one could well have expected 
of a boy of his age. The truth is, love is 
a great whetter of the stomach. At the 
first onset it almost annihilates hunger, but 
when it has gained a lodgement in the 
breast, and feels secure, and is quiet, it re- 
quires to be well fed. This is a physiolo- 
gical fact ; and if you do not know it, I do. 
The pretty brunette praised the boy's mas- 
ticatory powers, and having herself drank 
a bottle and a half of claret, while he drank 
the other half, she expressed a willingness 
to hear his story. When Oceanus had 
ended his bit of autobiography, she return- 
ed the compliment. Oceanus now felt 
sleepy, and tlie brunette, who was a quick 
observer, and had a good heart, proposed 
that they should retire for the night ; a 
proposition which may have sprung partly 
from the fact that she had herself eaten a 
great deal, as is the habit with tliose of her 
way of life. Another physiological fact, 
which if anj^ one doubts, he will find cor- 
roborated in a most remarkable and meri- 
torious book written by A. J. B. Parent- 
Duchatelet, and entitled, ' De la Prostitu- 
tion dans la Ville de Paris ;' a book which 
should be translated into every language 
of Europe, and put into the hands of every 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



103 



mayor, alderman, or supervisor of police 
of every city in Christendom. Parent- 
Duchatelet sacrificed his life in the cause 
of humanity ; and if a man's moral worth 
is to be gauged by the degree of ameliora- 
tion which his acts induce in the condition 
of his fellow-men, his was not less than 
Howard's. 

" The kind brunette extended to Oceanus 
more than the rites of hospitality ; he was 
a lone orphan, lost in the world ; she pitied 
his condition, and wished to give him shel- 
ter. With the morning, Oceanus blushed 
to see the rising sun, and the rising sun 
blushed to see him ; but the pretty bru- 
nette soon chased away shame, and resto- 
red his good opinion of himself. 

" The pretty brunette rose, and applied 
herself to her toilet. Oceanus was, at first, 
surprised to see her give so much of her 
time to her mirror, her washes, and her 
brushes ; but when she at last turned to 
him, and showed upon his person the effi- 
cacy of an art with which he was before 
wholly unacquainted, he acknowledged 
that her early hours could not have been 
better employed. If we set aside the im- 
mediate present physical and mental pleas- 
ures of a quiet, unhurried toilet — pleasures 
■which spring from friction applied in a 
thousand ways to the body, and pleasures 
which spring from arrangement, and have 
their seat in the mind — yet do we, by 
means of it, so preserve health and pro- 
long youth, that both vanity and length of 
years are, with good reason, its advocates. 
The face is much like a piece of steel, it 
needs to be kept bright to wear. The cost 
of false teeth will more than compensate 
for the time expended in the preservation 
of those which nature has given us, with- 
out computing th^ multitude of diseases 
we avoid by the possession of a clean 
mouth. When the hair falls, and prema- 
ture old age furrows the brow and cheeks, 
we learn to appreciate an art whose influ- 
ence is not confined to the material portion 
of ourselves ; through the body it reaches 
the intellect, purifies it, gives it strength ; 
smooths the temper, and keeps it equable. 
The pretty brunette was right ; many a 
crude notion, and more than one half of 
the immorality of society, spring from a 
want of cleanliness of person ; the best 
writings of the physicians tell us so — Hip- 
pocrates tells us so, and so does Boerhaave. 
The philosophic Cousin would do well to 
take a lesson from the brunette. 

" At the breakfast table the brunette ex- 
plained to Oceanus the part which she 
played in life ; a part which, had he been 
bred in a large city, he might have easily 
guessed at. She proposed to take him in- 
to her service : a proposition which, had 
he been bred in a large city, he would not 
have hesitated to reject ; as it was, he be- 
gan to suggest objections, and, in some 



things, when we begin to suggest objec- 
tions we fall. The brunette lihined an en- 
ticing picture of what his hours would be 
under her soft rule ; his own conscious- 
ness of present destitution limned a repul- 
sive one of what tliose hours would be if 
he was to return to the step at the en- 
trance of the hotel ; and he became her 
servant. 

" Oceanus's position was much like that 
of the favourite slave of an Eastern despot, 
and he filled as many oflices. He was 
prime minister, secretary, manager of the 
household, chief counsellor in intrigues, 
pimp, caterer, chamberlain, valet, lackey, 
boy of all work, and bosom friend. The 
tailor cast his outward man anew, and few 
would have recognised in the perfumed, 
jaunty youth who stood behind the bru- 
nette's chair when she supped with a lover, 
or himself occupied the lover's place when 
no one else was present to fill it, the am- 
phibious protege of the old Tar of the Fife. 
Oceanus had lived several weeks in this 
way, giving great satisfaction to his mis- 
tress, and enjoying an equal popularity 
with her visiters, who found him very 
handy in brushing their coats of a morn- 
ing, and in performing those ten thousand 
other little services which a man who 
knows how to dress knows how to value 
when one evening he happened to recol- 
lect that, although he had discarded moral- 
ity from his conduct, he still carried it in 
his pocket. So, as the brunette was out, 
and he had little else to do, he resumea 
his somewhat long-neglected acquaintance 
with old John Bunyan. He sat with the 
book open upon his knees, his eyes fixed 
upon one of those prints which, in most 
editions, wonderfully elucidate the text, 
when the brunette returned, and, observ- 
ing the intentness with which he gazed 
upon the picture, walked up quietly behind 
him, and looked over his shoulder. The 
brunette could not read lOnglish, but any 
one can read a good print. The blood 
mounted to her face. 

" ' What love story are you reading, my 
little prince of male beauties V asked the 
brunette, coquettishly pinching his ears in 
order to conceal her own emotion, and to 
wheedle him into the antiquated virtue of 
telling the truth. 

" Oceanus's face was now also suff'used 
with a ruddier tinge than ordinary, for he 
had not wholly parted with shame ; and, 
although honest, blunt John Bunyan might 
have rejoiced to have found his book in a 
brothel, and would not have despaired of a 
proselyte, yet our hero has a natural apti- 
tude for the fitness of things, and knows 
when the laws of propriety are violated. 

" ' It is no love story, but a copy of iha 
Old Testament,' said Oceanus, closing the 
book, and attempting to return it to his 
pocket. 



104 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



" The brunette took it from his hands 
and turned over its leaves in search of the 
print which had fixed her attention. ' A 
copy of the Old Testament ! And vi^hat is 
the Old Testament V 

" The brunette was a Catholic, and had 
never read, perhaps never seen or heard of, 
that book which, aside from its sanctity, is 
a wondrous anomaly in literature. It has 
ever been an enigma with me how Israel 
could have given us the poetry of [saiah 
and of David, the history of the two books 
of the Kings, the Chronicles, and the Mac- 
cabees, the Apothegms of Solomon, the 
tales of Ruth and of Tobin — all showing ca- 
pabilities for excellence in every class of 
writing — and yet have given us no more. 
Is Pindar more sublime than her prophets'? 
Are the historians of Greece and of Rome 
more graphic, better delineators of man- 
ners, deeper investigators of character, or 
better expositors of the springs of action 
than Samuel? Is the philosophy of Soc- 
rates and of Seneca superior in wisdom, 
and in practical application, to the philos- 
ophy of the builder of the Temple 1 Is the 
verse of Simonides or of Euripides richer 
in pathos than the story of Jacob? Yet 
where else shall we look for Israelitish lit- 
erature ? 

" Oceanus related to the brunette all that 
he knew about the Old Testament. 'It 
was written in English, a long time ago, 
by Mr. Bunyan,' said he, ' and has perhaps 
never been translated. I am sorry y.ou 
do not understand the language, for you 
would like the story ; it is so full of won- 
ders.' 

" ' Aha !' exclaimed the brunette, in a 
tone of voice which pierced the youth like 
a two-edged sword — it was pitched upon 
altissimo ; ' you are an English heretic, are 
you ! and thrust the sacred Volume into 
your greasy pockets as you would one of 
the filthy novels of Pigault Le Brun? 
Quel sacrilege ! And you defile, by actual 
contact with your anathematized body, a 
book which my confessor has told me is 
too holy for me to look upon ! Quelle 
profanation ! And now tell me, what is the 
meaning of this picture, you little, miser- 
able imp of purgatory V 

" ' It is an efilgy of the whore of Baby- 
lon,' said Oceanus, in a very uncertain, 
hesitating manner ; for he saw that his 
mistress was angry, and could not well 
imagine with what or why. The picture 
was a queer thing ; perhaps she had given 
it a personal application, and perhaps she 
had been quafRng too freely of eau de vie. 

" ' The whore of Babybon !' screamed 
the brunette, choking with rage, while 
she tore the offensive print into a thousand 
pieces, and danced up and down, throwing 
her arms and legs about much after the 
manner of the Essler in La Tarantula ; ' it 
is not enough that you profane our reli- 



gion and defile our most holy books, hut 
you must insult me ; I, who took you into 
my own house when you had not a decent 
rag to your back ; and gave you bread and 
meat when your belly was as thin as an 
old case knife. Out upon ye, you eel-gut- 
ted, lantern-jawed son of a heretic ; I'll 
teach you better, that I will ; a French 
woman is equal to two Englishmen, and 
ever has been since the days of Joaa 
d'Arc ;' and with that she kicked our hero 
down four flights of stairs, through the big' 
corridor, into the street ; not forgetting to 
send .Tohn Bunyan after him, in a way that 
showed that she was not an admirer o£ 
tjiat gentleman's writings. 

SECTION X. 

" Oceanus's retreat from the pretty bru- 
nette's chamber was as unforeseen, and 
quite as honourable, as had been his intro- 
duction. He had lost nothing, and had 
gained a lesson in morals, if he knew how 
to appl)'^ it; besides, he carried away upon 
his person a small sum of money given 
him by the brunette, and a dress more be- 
coming than that in which he had entered" 
the city. Oceanus has a stout heart ; so 
he gathered up honest John, and, lest op- 
portunity might invite a renewal of the at- 
tack, walked hurriedly away in search of 
some spot, at least six squares distant from 
his late domicil, where he might sit him- 
self down and ruminate upon the transito- 
ry nature of everything in life. As he 
moved along, careless of his walk, and 
swayed alternately by the most opposite 
emotions, now biting his lips with anger, 
and now melting into sorrow, he planted 
his foot upon the tail of a small, inoffen- 
sive dog, which, for reasons undoubtedly 
sufficient, had concluded to pass the night 
in the public street. The dog's feelings- 
were much hurt, for he complained bitter- 
ly, running to and fro, and waking the 
night with his howling. Two men, armed 
with leathe»;n caps and big muskets, hear- 
ing the little dog's outcries, peered cau- 
tiously out from behind the corner of a 
neighbouring building, and carefully recon- 
noitered the groimd in a manner which 
proved that they possessed a sufficiency 
of discretion to keep themselves out of: 
harm's way. Oceanus was too much en- 
gaged in endeavouring to make his peace 
with the testy cur he had inadvertently in- 
jured, to perceive the approach of the en- 
emy ; so that he was already in the hands 
of the law before he knew that he had 
roused it from its slumbers. The two 
men with big muskets swore roundly^ 
having been long accustomed to enlarge 
their oaths in exact proportion to the di- 
minutiveness of the object upon which, 
they were to be expended. They jerked 
Oceanus about from right to left, after a 
fashion v/hich convinced him that the brn- 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



105 



nette was not the only monster in that 
quarter of the city ; and having bestowed 
upon his person sundry alternate kicks 
and cuffs, which had the effect of inducing 
him to join in a chorus with the little dog, 
who sang the louder for company, they in- 
formed him that they were parcel of the 
city's police, and that he was arrested for 
an attempt to supply the city markets with 
a sort of meat which was used to be eaten 
only in times of famine. Oceanus protest- 
ed his innocence ; the little dog, even, ei- 
ther because, like some men, his friendship 
was only to be purchased with stripes, or 
from sympathy with misfortune, quit his 
howling, and commenced leaping upon 
Oceanus's legs, wagging his tail, as much as 
to say that he fully repented of his agen- 
cy in getting him into trouble. But the 
dog's rhetoric, if more persuasive than the 
boy's protestations, would have hardly 
saved Oceanus from a lock-up, had not a 
very spruce-looking young gentleman sud- 
denly entered upon the stage to give anew 
turn to its affairs. The young gentleman 
was a frequent visiter of the brunette's, and 
was then on his way to her chambers, when 
he met the police moving off at a quick step, 
with Oceanus between them, and the dog 
following in the rear to see the end of the 
matter. The young gentleman immediate- 
ly recognised in Oceanus the brunette's 
valet-en-chef, and supposing that the mis- 
tress might be in some way connected Avith 
the servant's untoward condition, very 
prudently inquired of one of the parties 
whither he was going, and of the other 
what they were about. It was a civil ques- 
tion, and the police could not well refuse 
to answer it ; so they told their story, in- 
terlarded with many oaths, and corrobo- 
rated by certain strange and startling 
facts, such as, that Oceanus was an old 
offender ; that they had long had their eyes 
upon him ; that he was well known as a 
vender of dog-meat in the markets ; and 
that they had just caught him in the act of 
noosmg a mangy cur which had been dy- 
ing of the rot for the past six weeks ! 
Oceanus, seeing a face he knew, took cour- 
age, and told his story ; to the truth of 
which the dog bore witness with a pathetic 
howl at the close of each period. The 
spruce-looking young gentleman knew too 
much of the world to confound argument 
with assertion. Argument, saith my Lord 
Bacon, is like an arrow shot from a cross- 
bow, it matters not whether a giant or a 
child pulls the trigger ; but assertion is like 
an arrow shot from a long-bow, a strong 
arm must draw the string. The spruce- 
looking young gentleman chose the long- 
bow, as being, in most cases, the readier 
and more effectual weapon ; and he appli- 
ed his arrows so industriously and so hap- 
pily, that he soon convinced the two po- 
licemen not only that he had known Oce- 




anus from his birth upward, but that he was 
his cousin-german ; and that the little dog, 
so far from being a mangy cur, ready to 
drop to pieces with the rot, was as sweet 
as a nut, and was a present which he had 
himself made his relative but the day be- 
fore. All of which the little dog corrobo- 
rated, as a dog might, by readily answer- 
ing to the name which the spruce-looking 
young gentleman, with an admirable stroke 
of genius, gave him upon the spot. 

'* If Oceanus had been horror-struck by 
the false accusations which the pohcemen- 
had urged against him, his admiration now 
gained the ascendency, and he stood mute 
with wonder when he heard the brunette's.- 
lover not only assert that he was a pas- 
senger with him in the ship within whose 
bowels he was born, but also claim a near 
consanguinity to him, and profess to have 
presented him with a dog which he had 
never seen before he had been so unfortu- 
nate as to tread upon the poor animal's 
tail. * 

" The policemen were satisfied, apolo- 
gized for their mistake, and the spruce- 
looking young gentleman, Oceanus, and 
the little dog walked away together. 

" Oceanus readily made known to his 
liberator both the fact and the cause of his 
ejectment from the service of his late mis- 
tress. The spruce-looking young gentle- 
man laughed heartily, said that the bru- 
nette was a brute, and knew as much about 
religion as the grand Turk ; that he might 
well be glad to be so easily rid of her, and, 
lest he might be a loser from so sudden a 
notice to quit, offered to receive him into 
his own chambers. Oceanus was too full 
of gratitude to express his thankfulness in 
words ; but his eyes ran over with tears, 
and, as he looked up into the spruce-look- 
ing young gentleman's face, his benefactor 
saw in them more than he could have said 
if his tongue had been as ready with bless- 
ings as a beggar's who has received alms. 
The spruce-looking young gentleman was 
satisfied ; and that he might show his confi- 
dence in his newly-acquired protege, he ask- 
ed Oceaiuis to loan him a five franc piece ; 
saying that he had inadvertently left his 
purse at his rooms, and that in talking with 
the filthy policemen he had inhaled so 
much garlic as to turn his stomach, which 
needed a glass of cau de vie to give it tone. 
Oceanus turned his pockets inside out, and 
presented his benefactor with their con- 
tents. The spruce-looking young gentle- 
man hesitated fora moment, and, in refusing 
to accept, accepted ; he chided Oceanus for 
his extravagant generosity, stepped into a 
shop by tlic way, expended three sous in 
brandy, put the remainder by for another 
occasion, and ended with a lecture upoa 
economy. 

" ' My rooms are upon the fifth floor ; I 
detest noise and love air,' said the spruce- 



lOG 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



looking young gentleman, as he, Oceanus, 
and the dog entered the corridor of an- 
other of those luige hotels which concen- 
trate the vice of Paris by housing poverty 
and wealth under tlie same roof. The 
laughter of superfluity and the groans of 
want ascend together ; if one is a hymn of 
gratitude, what is the other ! Poverty and 
wealth make queer associates ; wealth 
grows humble when it steps to pleasure 
upon the neck of want ; and poverty is 
content when it sees the good of all en- 
grossed by a few ! It is pleasant to have 
ever before our eyes an abundance we can- 
not partake of ! Tantalus in hell is more 
than matched by Tantalus on earth. 

" The spruce-looking young gentleman's 
rooms consisted of a single apartment of 
some eight feet by ten, furnished as a 
bachelor's kennel is best furnished, with a 
cot, the better part of a chair, a triangular 
piece of looking-glass, and a pot of poma- 
tum. Oceanus was a little disappointed in 
the appearance of things ; but one who is 
houseless cannot well complain of the roof 
which offers him shelter. The spruce- 
looking young gentleman consulted his 
mirror, arranged his hair, politely invited 
his friend to possess himself of the only 
seat in the room, assumed a patronising 
air, and, like a good general, at once open- 
ed the campaign. Although a novice in 
years, he was old in knowledge of the world. 
He knew better than to apologize for the 
poverty which gaped around him ; that 
spoke for itself, and might be attributed to 
whim, if too much was not said about it. 
Disguise, hke every other garment, will 
wear out, and lasts longest when not put 
on too often : he had no use for it on this 
occasion ; and lest Oceanus might ruminate 
upon home, and thereby become intracta- 
ble, he gave him other thoughts to occupy 
his attention, 

" ' Did you ever dream of growing rich V 
said the spruce-looking young gentleman, 
drawing himself up to his full height before 
the admiring Oceanus, whose eyes opened 
with the question, while his memory ran 
Ijack to his speculation in cotton. 

" ' You know something of my story f 
said Oceanus, hesitatingly. 

" ' I know something of every man's 
story ; for dreams of wealth are a part of it,' 
said the spruce-looking young gentleman. 
' Wealth is comparative, and however base, 
or however eminent may be a man's con- 
dition in society, however great may be 
his deprivations, or however numerous his 
superfluities, wealth is just beyond his 
reach. You will, then, never grow rich ". 
but you may, in striving to get too much, 
get enough. And I both can and will make 
known to you a way of getting that enough, 
honestly, surely, speedily.' Oceanus cast a 
furtive glance at the triangular bit of look- 
ing-glass fastened against the wall. The 



spruce-looking young gentleman under- 
stood the allusion, and answered it. ' Ac- 
tivity is not cradled in ease, nor is luxury 
the mother of great deeds. We must win 
honour before we wear it. A thousand 
francs created by the workings of our own 
brain are of more worth than ten thousand 
which come to us without our agency. 
Wealth is kind to those who generate it ; 
it poisons those who are its heirs. He who 
has never had an acid upon his tongue has 
little knowledge of sweetness. Poverty is 
to be loved, because she fits us for the at- 
tainment of riches, which, when attained, 
she has taught us how to enjoy.' 

" Oceanus was won. He heard the 
sounds of joy, of laughter, of revelry, as- 
cending up from the habitations of those 
who, according as they were nearer earth, 
partook most largely of its pleasures. The 
roll of the carriages of the rich, as they 
passed within and out of the grand corri- 
dor, added persuasion to his host's elo- 
quence ; and the contracted dimensions of 
the chamber in which he sat, the meanness 
of its garniture, and the evident want of its 
possessor, seemed but the gauge of near 
prosperity. The past, which, even for him, 
contained a lesson full of instruction, was 
forgotten, and he felt equal to any enter- 
prise. 

" The spruce-looking young gentleman 
was quick to perceive his victory ; and 
knowing when he had said enough, very 
leisurely descended from the high oratori- 
cal tone which he had assumed, put on a 
conversational manner, and, stretching 
himself out at full length upon his little 
cot, poured into the greedy ears of his will- 
ing pupil the argument of a scheme which 
was to flood both the talker and the lis- 
tener with good fortune. 

" As the projector proceeded, opening 
prospect after prospect, the last more brill- 
iant than the former, and while Oceanus's 
eyes grew bigger and bigger, dilating with 
each new certainty of success, the noise 
of revelry below was hushed, and the full, 
strong voice of a male singer alone broke 
the general stillness. 
1. 
" ' Faribolo pastouro, 

Serine al c6 de glas, 

Oh ! digo, digo couro 

Entendren tinda I'houro 
Oun t'ainistouzaras. 

Toutjour fariboulejes, 

Et quand parpailloulejes, 

La t'oulo que mestrejes, 

Sur toun cami se mit 
Et te siet. 

Mais res d'acos, mayn&do, 
Al bounhur pot inena ; 

Ou'es acos d'estre aymado, 
Quand on sat pas aynna?' 

" ' That is the fool .Tasmin, the coiffeur 
of Agen, a townsman of my own, for I am 
a Gascon,' said the spruce-looking young 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



107 



gentleman. 'Now if I should meet him 
in the streets of Paris, he would nod dis- 
tantly, and pass on ; yet, with money in 
my purse, he would sing for my amuse- 
ment, as he now sings for that of the stolid 
wealth which stares at him as it would 
stare at a learned pig ; and whose admira- 
tion is excited, not by the intellect dis- 
played, but by the fact that he should dis- 
play any intellect at all.' 

2. 

" ' Nostro joyo as bis creche, 

Quand luzis lou sourel; 
Ebe, cado dirneche, 
Quand te bez^n pareche, 

Nous fas may plaze qu'el, 
Ayman ta boues d'angfelo, 
Ta courso d'hiroundelo, 
Toun ayre doumayzelo, 
Ta bouco, amay tous pitils, 

Et tous els; 
Mais res, d'acos, maynado, 

Al bounhur pot mena; 
Qu'es acos d'estre aymado, 

Quand on sat pas ayma V 

" ' What has genius to do Avith wealth 1 
it has its own immortality ; yet will it 
fawn and lick the dust from the feet of 
riches, as does that singer : proving that 
the means of compassing a present pleas- 
ure are of more worth than a world of 
merit, to be acknowledged hereafter.' 
3. 
" ' Tristos soun las contrados 
Quand s'abeouzon de tu ; 
Las s6gos ni las prados 

Non soun pins embaoumados, 
Lou ci^l n'es plus tan blu. 
Quand tomes, faribolo, 
La langulno s'embolo, 
Cadun se rebiscolo, 
Minjayan tous ditous 

De poutous ! 
Mais res d'acos maynado, 
Al bounhur pot mena ; 
Qu'es acos d't^stre aymado 
Quand on sat pas ayma?' 

" ' The hair-dresser of Agen, at work at 
his trade, does not debase the poet of rare 
worth : the glorious gift of verse raises 
him aloft above his station ; but Jasmin, 
the puppet for a day of Parisian vanity, 
oppresses with a weight of baseness those 
qualities which can alone give him a clnim 
wpon immortality.' 

4. 
" ' Ta tourtero enfugido 
Te baillo uno litsou : 
Es al bos que t'oublido, 
Et que ben pu poulid 
Dunpey qu'y fay I'amou. 
Pel I'amou, tout palpito; 
Siet-lou ! perquc t'enbito, 
Aoutromen, de ta bito, 
Lous bes jours sayon nuts 

Et perduts; 
Gn'a que I'amou, maynado, 
Qu'al bounhur pot mena ; 
Acos tout d'festre aymado, 
Mais, quand on sat ayma ! !' 

" ' The song is at an end ; and now Jas- 
min feels himself more than repaid by the 



clapping of hands, and cries of "bravo," 
which have followed its close. Poor sim- 
plicity ! as if inanity could appreciate in- 
tellect ; or as if he will not be forgotten 
when a new wonder, like a new fashion, 
calls off attention to another quarter. 
"Bravo" again; and again a clapping of 
hands. Jasmin has been witty, perhaps in 
an allusion to his calling ; and they cry 
" bravo," and clap their hands, to drive 
away ennui, while he smiles, and hugs 
himself, and finds noise, fame. Thus will 
wealth, even in the hands of fools, compel 
wisdom to pimp for its pleasures : what 
may it not do when possessed by those 
who know how rightly to use it! I love 
poverty for its own sake ; it is amiable, 
sociable, will seek you out, stay with you, 
is not readily lost, and is easily found ; but 
civility has turned the world upside down, 
and, as most men are wanting in philoso- 
phy, it is necessary to embrace an evil to 
secure consideration. 

" ' And now let me tell you, my dear 
Oceanus, the whole secret of success in 
life,' continued the spruce-looking young 
gentleman, rising from his cot, and making 
sundry demonstrations towards retiring for 
the night : ' it is in appearing not to need 
success. When most in want, seem, like 
a starving town besieged, most to riot m 
abundance. No man aids another without 
expecting the return of his principal, with 
usury ; and a beggar is not the best of se- 
curities.' 

" The spruce-looking young gentleman 
put off his coat and vest, and Oceanus was 
surprised to discover that his friend want- 
ed a shirt. When dressed, he so arranged 
his cravat as to conceal so great an incom- 
pleteness in his wardrobe. He next put 
off his shoes, and was without stockings ; 
he then divested himself of his pantaloons, 
and was without drawers, if Oceanus 
could have seen his patron's heart, he 
would have found it as naked of principle 
as his person was of clothing. 

" ' I am not an advocate for a superfluity 
of dress,' said the spruce-looking young 
gentleman, as he now stood, in his natural 
state, before the averted eyes of his young 
protege ; ' it would have been better to 
have abided by the simplicity of our first 
ancestors. But we must conform to fash- 
ion; and you may readily perceive how 
easy it is to do so, even at a cheap rate. 
I am what few others are, a practical illus- 
tration of my own maxims : and when most 
in want, seem most to riot in abundance. 
Good-night. I am sorry I have not another 
cot ; you can stretch yourself upon the 
floor, Oceanus. You will do very well. 
The plank has grown soft with age. In the 
morning we will adjust matters.' And the 
spruce-looking yoimg gentleman was soon 
in the land of dreams. 

" ' One can hardly call this even a seem- 



108 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



ing to riot in abundance ; to me it looks 
mightily like real want,' murmured Ocea- 
nus, as he composed himself to rest, as he 
best might, upon a bed he had not been 
used to in the earlier days of his young 
life. He thought of the generous old Tar 
of the P'ife, of the kind inamorata, of his in- 
dulgent uncle, and sobbed with a violence 
which would have awakened any other 
sleeper but one who, like the spruce-look- 
ing young gentleman, was an offspring of 
an actor in the French Revolution. Those 
who have no conscience, like those who 
have a conscience unstained, sleep well ; 
and that terrible convulsion has left but 
little of the commodity to the generations 
which have come after it. But it is good 
to become early acquainted with the lot 
which an inexorable fate has decreed to 
the millions of the earth. While the mul- 
titude cry daily to Heaven for bread, those 
who have enough, and those who have 
more than enough, tempt its justice with 
complaints of imaginary evils. 

SECTION XI. 

"The first light of morning found the 
spruce-looking young gentleman active at 
his toilet. He was no sluggard, and pos- 
sessed an energy and versatility of char- 
acter which, had they been guided by in- 
tegrity, would have soon won the wealth 
he sighed for. Although aided with few of 
the appliances which modern luxury has 
invented to cleanse, beautify, and reno- 
vate a decaying body, and which, like the 
more refined arts of ancient voluptuaries, 
bring health as well as physical pleasure 
with their use, he was able to step forth 
from beneath the plastic touch of his own 
fingers as nice a young man as ever li- 
belled humanity upon the Boulevards of 
Paris. Such is the skill which is ever the 
result of practice ; such is the success 
which is born of determination. The tricks 
of the juggler put to shame the complaints 
of those seekers after a higher fame who 
bemoan the shortness of life. 

" The spruce-looking young gentleman 
laboured effectually to seem more than he 
was, while Oceanus, embraced by sleep, 
ran merrily along upon the asymptote of 
his waking existence. 

" ' Childhood has no cares, and rests 
well,' said the spruce-looking young gen- 
tleman, standing over the dreamer, and 
watching the gentle heavings of his breast, 
which rose and fell like the measured swell 
of a sea becalmed. ' What storms of pas- 
sion shall ruffle that smooth water! and 
none more violent than the desire of 
wealth ; even now its seeds quicken to ger- 
mination. Blind we enter the world — blind 
we leave it ; let it, with all its mysteries, 
roll on ; he alone is wise who seeks in ac- 
tion a refuge from thought. Ho ! Ocea- 
nus, up ; up, my Trojan, up ; a thousand 



francs are won and ten thousand lost 
while you are dozing off the most precious 
hour of day. That man will never effect 
much who is caught in bed by a rising 
sun.' 

" ' A rising sun, however unseasonable 
may be his movements, will never catch 
me in bed here, I take it,' said Oceanus, 
rubbing his eyes, and staring about, uncer- 
tain whether to consider himself in his wa- 
king or dreaming existence. 

" ' If you are not abed, and asleep too, 
these words have different significations 
according as they are used in the Old or 
the New World,' said the spruce-looking 
young gentleman ; ' for I can assure you 
that of the inhabitants of this great city 
one hundred thousand know no softer rest 
nor any deeper slumber than you now en- 
joy. Want and crime are hard task-mas- 
ters ; one forbids ease, the other enjoins 
watchfulness ; you are acquainted with the 
first ; I know something of both, and nei- 
ther of us is desirous of prolonging his 
apprenticeship ; so rouse yourself, and let 
us mature the plans of the past night.' 

" Oceanus rose up as he had laid down, 
with his wardrobe upon his back ; and hav- 
ing well yawned and looked sharply about 
him, so as to assure himself of his identi- 
ty, he declared himself ready for business. 
The spruce-looking young gentleman took, 
a seat upon the cot, Oceanus drew the chair 
to its side, and both again forgot present 
poverty in a future possession of millions. 
" ■ Tins is the exordium to my prospec- 
tus,' said the spruce-looking young gentle- 
man, drawing a paper from his pocket, 
' which we will stick upon all the walls of 
Paris ; it will go hard if we cannot afford 
to retire from the business before a twelve- 
month calls either of us a year older. Let 
me read it to you ; it is what I call a proc- 
lamation, and will pour into our laps a 
greater revenue than Augustus received, 
after his famous decree which, as one of 
your fine novels says, went forth that all 
the world should be taxed. Oceanus, hold 
your breath ; I open with a flourish of 
trumpets : 

'' ' Compagnic cV Assurance Mutiielle pour les 

FuneraiUes. 

" ' Honneur a la philanthropic du siecle 

ou nous vivons ! Honneur a sa bienfai- 

sante sollicitude qui le porte incessam- 

ment a rechercher ces moyens ingenieux 

qui rendent si facile raccomplissamment 

des devoirs les plus importants, et les plus 

sacres ! Quel homme sensible ne mettra 

pas au nombre de ces dernieres, celui que 

la nature nous impose a I'egard de ce 

qu'elle nous a donne de plus cher, d'un 

pere, d'une mere, d'une epouse, et de nos 

enfants ? Mais, si chacun de nous, quand il 

1 perd un de ces precieux objets de notre 

1 tendresse, pent payer pas de sinceres lar- 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



100 



ines ce tribut si doux d'amour, d'attache- 
ment, et de reconnaissance, pent il tou- 
jours joindre a ces teinoinages de regrets, 
<ies marqnes exterieiirs et publiques ; de 
-ces sentiments qui desirerent de mani- 
fester toiijours, et dans tons les siecles les 
ames nobles et genereuses ! Non, sans 
doute ! Et c'est ce qui dechire nos coeurs, 
quand nous sommes obliges de rendre, in- 
appercus, ces derniers devoirs si cher a 
tous les hommes. 

" ' Ambitionnant la gloire de fermer cette 
place sociale, nous avons I'honneur d'offrir 
a nos concitoyens le moyen le plus sim- 
ple et le plus aise d'atteindre un but si hon- 
orable. Quel est, en effet, celui d'entre 
nous, quelque peu favorise qu'il soit de la 
fortune, qui ne puisse dans la semaine re- 
trancherquelques centimes de ses besoins ; 
et qui ne le fasse avec delice, lorsqu'il son- 
gera qu'il va assurer a sa famille, a lui- 
m6rae, les funerailles les plus honorables ■? 
Nous n'en dirons pas davantage ; e'en est 
assez pour tout coeur bien ne — contentons- 
nous de renvoyer a notre prospectus d'as- 
surance mutuelle pour les funerailles, que 
Ton trouvera ptiblic dans tous les Journaux 
de la capitale. 

" 'Jacques D'Orleans, 
•" ' President de la Compagnie dWssurance 

Mutuelle pour les Funerailles. 

" ' Rue, Palais Koyal, No. 645.' 

" The spruce-looking young gentleman 
blew out the last blast, closing with his 
own name in a full, rotund note of tri- 
umph, and then waited in silence the ad- 
miration of his companion. 

" ' Do you think it will go down V asked 
Oceanus, doubtingly. 

" ' Down 1 no ; it will go up, my little 
fellow, up ! you do not know the Parisians 
as I do. A Frenchman's ruling passion is 
vanity ; and it is strong, not only in, but 
after death. There are fifty thousand per- 
sons in this city who would starve both 
themselves and their families for the cer- 
tainty of being followed to the grave by a 
score of empty carriages. I know what I 
am about.' 

" ' We can try !' said Oceanus, musing 
upon the affiches of his late friend the va- 
nupied. 

" ' And we can perform ; never talk of 
trying. Man is a god, and can do any- 
thing, if he has the will. When you read 
the story of the great, Oceanus, never 
wonder that they have done so much, but, 
rather, that they did no more. Had I have 
lived, as my grandfather lived, in the time 
of that great struggle whose history is a 
page of blood, I would l^iive made the guil- 
lotine my slave, and not have died, as he 
died, its victim. But the times have chan- 
ged, and we must rise in another way. 
The franc piece is now almiglity; it gives 
consideration, rank, power. The man of 
millions is now upon the throne, and his 



avarice is catching. Maximilian, the in- 
corruptible, in his little chamber over the 
cabinet-maker's shop, would ill suit this 
corruptible age. Money must be got ; for 
in getting monej'' we get everything else. 
Do you suppose that I look only for an es- 
cape from' this narrow room, and a change 
of linen for every twenty-four hours 1 Such 
things are worthy of our solicitude as 
means of rising, for there is nuich truth in 
the adage, that " the tailor makes the 
man ;" but he who regards his personal 
adornment, or even the grosser pleasures 
of life, as an end, merits not the little of 
the common air he breathes. We must 
look higher, higher, higher! These are 
days of instability ; the blow which was 
struck in eighty-nine has not yet had its 
full effect, and every man in France who 
possesses the will has the right — to jostle 
Philip from his stool !' said Jacques, lower- 
ing his voice to a whisper. ' He who 
stands upon the volcano when it bursts 
will be thrown highest into the air. You 
do not understand these things now ; you 
are too young ; but if you live to the age 
of manhood you will see them. Follow 
me ; I will not mislead you. The ladder 
which mounts to power is long, and its 
first rounds are lowly. But in what do we, 
dravving money from the pockets of fools, 
differ from them, speculating in the funds ! 
Who hanged the Duke de Bourbon ? No, 
no ! no hesitation, no doubting, no qualms 
of conscience ! We must play our game 
boldly, with assurance, or we lose it. 
Humbug ! Humbug pervades everything — 
politics, religion, literature, and money- 
getting. Many an intriguer has risen by 
it, many a saint has been canonized by it, 
many a writer has built up a school by it, 
and many a schemer has grown rich by it ; 
and we, Oceanus,' continued Jacques, look- 
ing around upon the poverty which dwelt 
in his little apartment — ' and we, most as- 
suredly, cannot lose by it. Listen to the 
Prospectus !' 

" Although Oceanus was, indeed, too 
young to appreciate much of the argu- 
ment, or understand many of the allusions 
of his spruce-looking associate, he was 
subdued by the warmth and vigour of his 
conversation, and sat at his knees, looking 
up into his face with open mouth, as if a 
thousand francs hung upon each word. 

" The little dog, wlio had shared his 
young master's bed, and risen when he 
rose, appeared to be not the least interest- 
ed of the party. He had got upon the back 
of Oceanus's chair, and stood, with iiis fore 
feet planted upon the boy's head, looking 
straight forward at the speaker, whose el- 
oquence he relished so highly, that it cost 
him an effort to refrain from breaking forth 
into tlie most noisy applause. Both .lacques 
and Oceanus were too much absorbed in 
contemplation of the briUiant prospects 



110 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



their scheme was opening upon them to 
notice so strong an iHustration of canine 
intelligence, and the little dog retained his 
position during the reading of the Pros- 
pectus, wagging his tail, and now and then 
licking his chops, with a low, half-sup- 
pressed whine, whenever a proposal of 
peculiar gusto met with his decided appro- 
bation. 

" ' Reglement de la Compagnie d'Assu- 
rance Metuelle pour les Funerailles !' 

" The little dog pointed his cars forward. 

" ' II est inutile, continued Jacques, ' pour 
ceux qui ont lu notre Prospectus affiche 
sur tous les murs de cette ville, de deve- 
lojper les motifs qui, a grands frais, et aux 
risques de plus grandes pertes encore, nous 
ont portcs k oftrir aux sensibles et intelli- 
gens citoyens de Paris, une forme d'assu- 
rance dictee par les plus purs sentiments 
de la philanthropic, et dont le seul but est 
de procurer aux vivants la satisfaction bien 
grande d'acheter, d'avance, les honneurs 
dus aux morts. 

" ' You perceive the advantage of such 
an opening !' said Jacques ; ' those who 
read the " Prospectus" are referred to the 
" Regulations," and those who read the 
" Regulations" are referred to the " Pros- 
pectus ;" so that, in running from one to 
the other, they lose a little of each, add 
much to both, and make a grand affair of 
the whole !' 

" Oceanus nodded assent, and the little 
dog, as a matter of necessity, nodded also. 

" ' Ainsi, done,' continued Jacques, ' apres 
avoir rappele que le capital de la com- 
pagnie est compose d'actions payees et 
placees sur I'etat en fonds consolides, aussi 
stables que le gouvernment. 

'"That is intended as a compliment to 
government, and will induce it to wink at 
our proceedings. Cod knows, were the 
funds believed to be as uncertain as Phil- 
ip, holders would be beggared within the 
hour !' 

" Oceanus, not knowing what funds 
meant, looked wise ; the little dog imita- 
ted his master. 

"' Nous offrons an public les conditions 
auxquelles la Compagnie d'Assurance Mu- 
tuelle se chargera de fournir tout ce qui 
est necessaire pour le service funebre de 
tout homme, toute femme, et tout enfant 
decedes dans la ville de Paris, suivant la 
dignite des honneurs que le defunt aura 
choisee pendant sa vie, pour sa sepulture 
et sa derni^re demeure.' 

" ' That is promising a great deal !' said 
Oceanus. 

'"We can afford to be profuse in prom- 
ises ; they cost nothing !' said Jacques. 

" ' It seems to me,' said Oceanus, ' very 
necessary that we should have a small cap- 
ital to start with, in order to meet the pos- 
sible happening of an early death among 
our subscribers I' 



" ' Never fear that,' said Jacques ; ' the 
strong and healthy alone will subscribe ; 
the rich and the old fear death too much 
to provide for it. I will now read the 
" Conditions;" you will find them reasona- 
ble enough : 

" ' ARTICLE 1". 

" ' Pour une biere commune, et corbillard 
commun, 25c. par mois.' 

" ' How much is a " centime '" ' inquired 
Oceanus. 

" ' Five centimes are equal to one sous ; 
and twenty sous are equal to one franc,' 
said Jacques. 

" ' Then " twenty-five centimes a month" 
is a very small sum of money,' said Ocea- 
nus, despondingly. 

" ' But there are in this city,' said 
Jacques, ' a hundred thousand who will 
subscribe under that " article" alone ; ma- 
king two million five hundred thousand 
centimes — equal to twenty-five thousand 
francs — or three hundred thousand francs 
per year; a very pretty revenue, eh !' 

" ' Read on,' said Oceanus, in a tone of 
courage. 

" ' ARTICLE 2''. 

" ' Pour une biere peinte et corbillard, 
avec quatre panaches, 40c par mois. 

" ' This " article" will net us at least one 
third as much as the first,' said Jacques. 

" ' ARTICLE 3'"^ 

" ' Pour une bi6re peinte et corbillard a 
six panaches, plus quatre glands fins, pour 
les coins du drap mortuaire, et quatre por- 
te-flambeau. If. par mois. 

" ' There is something to meet the wants 
of the mechanics who are well to do in 
the world, and the small shop-keepers, 
who have a house to live in, enough to eat, 
and a little over,' said Jacques ; ' it will 
give us five thousand francs a month.' 

" ' What is the sum-total to be received 
under the three articles V asked Oceanus, 
whose ideas of wealth were already out- 
stripped by his patron's magnificent com- 
putations. 

" ' Twelve times five are sixty ; one hun- 
dred thousand under the second article ; 
only four hundred and sixty thousand 
francs a year.' 

"Oceanus was not yet sufficiently ac- 
quainted with the artificial wants of soci- 
ety to comprehend the use, or even the 
possible existence, of so large an income. 
To him it was infinite ; even imagination 
could not reach it ; and he took refuge 
from doubt in wild schemes of expen- 
diture, which sooit danced in troops before 
his mental vision. 

" ' ARTICLE 4""". 

" ' Pour biere en acajou, corbillard de- 
core, drap mortuairo en velours avec galon 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Ill 



et Iranges en argent, six porte-flambeaux, 
six pauvres, et dix voitures de suite, 8/. 
par mois. 

" ' This article will not gain us so much 
as either of the others," said Jacques ; ' for 
non,e but those who once possessed for- 
tunes, and have lost them, with now and 
then a decayed nobleman, and perhaps 
one or two fools from among the lower 
classes, will sign under it. We may put it 
down at one thousand francs per month.' 

" ' I wish the francs were dollars,' said 
Oceanus, who, in imagination, had already 
bestowed a fortune upon his uncle, raised 
a mausoleum to the combined memory of 
the inamorata and the old Tar of the Fife, 
settled his differences with the pretty bru- 
nette, to the utter discomfiture of John 
Bunyan, and now sat at the girl's feet while 
she perfumed his hair with aromatic oils. 

" ' Young fool, where are your thoughts 1' 
exclaimed Jacques, in a tone of severity 
which rudely awakened Oceanus from his 
dream, drove Trouve from his position, 
and sent him crouching beneath his mas- 
ter's feet. ' Have not my words yet kin- 
dled a nobler ambition in your breast ! Is 
money to be sought for only as the giver 
of pleasures which bring down man to the 
beast !' Jacques sprang from his seat upon 
the cot, and, drawing a crayon from his 
pocket, rapidly sketched upon the wall a 
picture, which, as it grew beneath his pen- 
cil, chilled Oceanus's young blood until the 
boy covered his eyes with his hands from 
very terror. 

" It was a passage from the Revolution. 
Jacques had seized upon the point of time 
when the Duke of Orleans, on his way to 
the guillotine, halted before the palace of 
his orgies, and smiled upon that witness of 
his riots and his crimes, and made no sign. 
The infuriated populace of the faubourgs, 
tempest tossed with every passion whicfi 
defiles the human heart, raged around him 
like a sea, while the fearful agent of the 
Revolution rose and fell, and with every 
fall gave another life to eternity. Upon 
every face was written 'blood;' 'blood' 
was the cry which filled every mouth ; 
and it flowed until a nation reeled, drunk 
with its own gore. 

" ' That man is my ancestor,' said 
Jacques, pointing to the principal figure in 
the picture, ' and in that death he redeemed 
a life of infamy. He lived for pleasure, and 
yet would not barter a daughter's chas- 
tity for safety. Springing from his loins, 
though with a " bar sinister," I possess his 
ambition without his weakness ; and may 
claim power in equal right with him who 
now grasps more than did the emperor at 
his zenith. The Revolution broke the I 
bonds which linked man to man, dissolved 
the ties even of consanguinity, reshuffled 
the cards, and threw me at the bottom of 
the pack. The days of violence have pass- 1 



ed ; the arts of peace are in the ascendant ;. 
it is by money alone we rise, and therefore 
I would have it.' 

" Jacques carefully rubbed the drawing 
from the wall, and returned to his ' Propo- * 
sals.' 

" 'article 5""". 

"'Pour une pierre commune placee sur 
la tombe avec inscription du nom du de- 
funt, du jour de sa naissance et celui de 
son deces, 5c. par mois. 

" ' There is an article,' Jacques contin- 
ued, ' which will bring us all of two thou- 
sand francs a month ; for those who bury 
themselves will buy their grave-stones of 
us ; and since you are so avaricious while 
yet so young, I will consent that you shall 
receive all the proceeds of it.' 

" Oceanus, with equal generosity, de- 
clined anything more than a fair division. 
He said that he did wish to prove to his 
uncle that he was capable of taking care 
of himself; and that his greatest joy was, 
that he was now in a fair way of do- 
ing so. 

" ' Your uncle — I will buy him with my 
sixth article ; " Pour pierre de marble 
blanc, avec croix en fer et inscription. If. 
par mois ;" a thousand francs at least,' 
said Jacques. 

" ' Can you give me a glass of water V 
said Oceaiuis; 'that horrid picture has 
made me sick.' 

" ' Ha ! you must get nerve. I have no 
such luxury as a tumbler; and water you 
will find in the Seine. If a picture makes 
you sick, you must be stone blind to ac- 
tual life ; for this very roof, as quiet as it 
now is, covers more of suff'ering than my 
pencil set forth. It is not hard to die ; but 
it is to live, when society creates wants it 
cannot gratify. I have but a " Nota Bene" 
to read, and then we will go in search of 
both water and bread.' 

" This hint at a spare diet caused Ocea- 
nus's memory to run back to the evening 
which he had passed with the vanupied 
at the restaurant at Le Havre; but as 
Jacques had told him that 'great things' 
had never been conceived or executed upon 
a full stomach, he was content to starve for 
a time, in expectation of the feast which 
was preparing in the future. 

'" Nota. 

" ' Les personnes qui voudront avoir un 
mausolee, presenteront le plan de celui 
qu'ils auront choisi, et prendront a cetefl'et 
des arrangements avec la compagnie. 

" ' L'on fournira gratis des croi.x noires 
en bois aux personnes qui n'auront ni pierre 
ni tombe.' 

" ' Les enfants audessous de douze ans, 
et les hommes audessus de soixanie. se- 
ront sujets a des variations de prix. et 
s'arrangeront pour cela avec la compagnie. 

" ' There, that is a proper finale, and wili 



112 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



yield us ten thousand francs in round num- 
bers.' 

" ' But can we afford to give away the 
little black crosses V said Oceanus. 

" ' We can afford to promise them,' said 
Jacques ; ' and now, Oceaiuis, take your 
hat, and I will show you how you can live 
on two sous a day.' 

SECTION XH. 

"For several days immediately subse- 
quent to the conversation which I have just 
detailed, Jacques and Oceanus were busily 
engaged in making preparation for the 
grand public denouement of a scheme which 
the genius of a Frenchman alone could 
have projected, and which Jacques knew 
the vanity of Frenchmen could alone ren- 
der successful. Jacques's spruceness, and 
the debonair air which even a short resi- 
dence in Paris had imparted to Oceanus's 
manners, passed as current coin with those 
of whose aid they had need ; and proved 
the truth of the maxim, so well understood 
among merchants, that a good face Avill 
give credit, and credit is better than money. 

" An office was taken in the Rue Palais 
Royal, amid the bankers and money-chan- 
gers, the Jews and sharpers of the most 
knowing city of the world. But Jacques was 
not one to fear a contact with the shrewd, 
for among the shrewd he was the shrewd- 
est. The affiches were struck off, the pub- 
lic journals bargained with, and Jacques 
and Oceanus took a Breathing day pre- 
paratory to their first grand move upon the 
chessboard of life. It was on the morning 
of that day, calm and serene as a morning 
in June ever is, giving no portent of evil, 
•when the sun had got high enough to 
throw its rays over the tops of the houses, 
and light up one side of the streets it 
crossed, while the other was buried in deep 
shade, that the two friends, with Trouve, 
sallied forth to look upon the fatness of 
the city they were about to lay under con- 
tribution. As tl.cy sauntered along its 
busy thoroughfares, Jacques pointed out 
such persons as he supposed would sub- 
scribe his ' articles,' and classifying them 
into families, re-enumerated the probable 
a"evenue which each would yield per month. 
Oceanus's heart dilated with gratitude to- 
wards those who were to be to him the 
source of such infmite good ; and he walk- 
ed on, Uving m the future, while Jacques, 
at his side, poured into his ear an endless 
tale of magnificent promises. 

" The schemers had in this way pass- 
•■ed the larger part of the morning, when 
Ihey came to a high blind wall which, abut- 
ting upon two streets, afforded an admi- 
rable locality for the posting of ' affiches.' 
Jacques scanned the object before him with 
the eye of an artist, and at once compre- 
hended the advantage of its form and posi- 
tion. He called Oceanus's attention to it, 



and discoursed eloquently upon the possi- 
ble sums of money it might put into their 
pockets. While he talked thus jjleasingly, 
a man with a huge roll of paper, a paste- 
pot, and a brusli under one arm, and a long 
slender ladder under the other, stepped 
quickly over from the opposite side of the 
way, planted his ladder very unceremoni- 
ously against the wall, smeared over some 
hundred square feet of its surface, unrolled 
his paper, fitted it nicely to the paste, and 
passed on. 

" It was an affiche ; and the lar^e ru- 
bric characters in which it was printed, 
visible from a distance of three squares, 
admitted of no question as to its import. 
While the master discoursed, the scholar, 
with greedy ears, caught each word as it 
fell, as he woidd have caught fresh coined 
franc pieces in his hat ; but the affiche told 
a story which, like the magic of an Eastern 
tale, at once dissipated the wealth that 
both felt to be already within their grasp. 
Jacques's voice faltered, his oration upon 
the value of riches was brought abruptly to 
a close, he gazed upon the wall, then upon 
Oceanus, then upon the wall again, and 
stood rooted to the spot. Oceanus opened 
his eyes very wide, and imitated Jacques ; 
Trouve sat himself down upon his haunch- 
es, and imitated Oceanus ; and thus was 
formed a tableau vivant which the idle of 
that quarter of the city were not slow in 
appreciating. 

" When one man looks into the air, a 
hundred others are readily found to follow 
the example. A crowd soon gathered 
about the three friends, alternately scan- 
ning, with an equal appetite for knowledge, 
the affiche, Jacques, Oceanus, and the dog. 
The outer circles pressed upon the inner, 
the inner pressed upon the tableau, until 
Jacques, roused to a consciousness of his 
position by the impossibility of longer re- 
taining it, turned suddenly upon his heels, 
scowled upon the now sorrowful Oceanus, 
kicked- the faithful Trouve far over the 
heads of the impertinent by-standers into 
the gutter, which ran along midway the 
street, and hastened, with lengthened 
strides, back to his little chamber at the 

top of his magnificent hotel in Rue ; 

Oceanus turned slowly, overwhelmed with 
sorrow, and followed Jacques ; Trouve 
picked himself out of the gutter, looked 
about him with an air of surprise, and fol- 
lowed Oceanus. 

" The affiche, which had destroyed the 
equanimity of Jacques, turned Oceanus's 
joy to grief, and afflicted with soreness 
Trouve's bones, purported to be published 
by authority ; and announced, almost in the 
words of Jacques, ' The formation of a roy- 
al company of eminent capitalists, who, 
moved by compassion for the wants of the 
poor, were willing to bury their dead in a 
style of magnificence beyond the compass 



NEW ORLEANS AvS I FOUND IT. 



11? 



of ordinary fortunes.' The plan was one 
of mutual insurance ; the subscriptions 
were graded from a costly mausoleum to 
a simple burial in an ordinary grave, with- 
out head-stones, without crosses, without 
carriages, without mourners, without lights, 
and without prayers. Exordium and per- 
oration, article for article, it was Jacques's 
scheme forestalled, and got up after a rich- 
er manner. 

" When Oceanus and Trouve arrived at 
Jacques's little room at the top of the hotel, 
they found him pacing its narrow floor, 
highly excited, and venting two curses 
against fortune to one against himself. 

" ' You have betrayed me,' cried Jacques, 
fiercely, as Oceanus entered the apartment. 

" Oceanus sat himself down upon the 
only chair, with Trouve at his feet, bowed 
his head to his knees, and wept aloud. 

" Jacques's anger was subdued, but his 
policy continued unchanged. ' You have 
betrayed me,' he continued, ' if not with 
words, at least with looks. Your face is 
hke an open page, and in it one may read 
all your thoughts. I pitied your destitu- 
tion, and took you in ; but you were not 
born for wealth, and I have no farther use 
for you. Go ; go forth to the million, and 
starve. Such is the lot awarded to the 
mass of men. Made to creep for a time 
amid the slime of the earth, they rot, fat- 
ten the soil which denied them food, and 
pass from life to an eternity of forgetful- 
ness. I was not created for an ordinary 
existence ; and he who would walk at my 
side must not halt in his gait, nor learn of 
the enthusiasts, whether in morals or reli- 
gion, to weigh his acts in a balance. Go ; 
go forth to the million, and starve ; but re- 
member, and be silent upon all which you 
have seen and all that I have said. If 
questioned, tell the story differently ; it 
■will be better for you ; for a probable lie is 
ever believed before an improbable truth. 
And now that we are to part, let us part in 
kindness,' continued Jacques, extending his 
hand, which Oceanus took within his own, 
and bathed in tears. 

" Fallen from the high pinnacle of his 
hopes, the world was again before Ocea- 
nus where to choose. He protested his 
innocence of any intentional betrayal of 
Jacques's great scheme ; told how much 
he confided in the good ofhces of his pa- 
tron ; besought that he might be retained 
for yet one more trial ; suggested new 
methods of gaining money ; spoke of his 
loneliness, without a friend, in a great and 
strange city ; and, with many sobs, fell 
upon .Jacques's neck, which he burned with 
kisses. 

" Jacques hardened his heart. ' No,' 
said he, ' it cannot be ; we are not fashion- 
ed of the same metal. Go ; and may the 
great God, who giveth all things, give you 
bread. Go ; think no more of riches ; re- 



turn to your uncle, and be content to live 
a life of insignificance — it is your destiny. 
Happy destiny ! " It were better to be a 
poor fisherman than to govern men.*' 
Faugh ! a sentiment fit for a man with his 
head upon the block ;' and Jacques led Oce- 
anus to the door, and gave him his blessing. 
" Oceanus moved slowly down the long 
stairway ; Trouve, faithful to his new- 
formed friendship, walked at his side, a 
partaker in his sorrow ; the joy of abun- 
dance, the laughter of revelry, rose up 
from the lower floors ; the youthful wan- 
derer was desolate in the midst of ten 
thousand. 

SECTION XIII. 

" As Oceanus passed without the corri- 
dor, he halted upon the threshold and look- 
ed out upon the busy street, now, at mid- 
day, crowded with passengei's, as one born 
upon land and unacquainted with water 
might stand upon a rock and look out upon 
a sunny sea ; to him strange and untried — 
enticing, yet repelling, full of loveliness 
and of fear. Rich and poor, the thought- 
less and the thoughtful — a hundred times 
he wished himself one of the multitude 
which hurried along in a ceaseless stream 
before him : and Avhen Trouve sallied forth 
to make an acquaintance with his kind, he 
wished himself a dog, or anything other 
than what he was. Wearied, at length, he 
sat down upon the paved floor, and sought 
for consolation as well as courage in the 
pages of honest John Bunyan. From the 
Old Testament he turned to the New, and 
read of Paul's shipwreck upon Melita, un- 
til the vivid picture there drawn of the sea 
and its tempests soothed his spirit, and he 
fell asleep. ' 

" While Oceanus slept, with his back 
against the wall, honest John Bunyan and 
the New Testament open upon his knees, 
and Tom Jones and Roderic Random peep- 
ing from each side pocket, a gentleman of 
some forty years, carelessly dressed, with 
a pale, thin face, dark, lanky hair, a broad 
forehead, inquisitive eye, and a nose which 
seemed to say that it smelt something, 
passed along the corridor, looking upon 
every side as if in search of news. He 
had called upon a friend who had his cham- 
bers in the hotel, and was returning to his 
house upon the Boulevard Saint Martin, 
when the sleeping Oceanus, the books, and 
the dog watching over all, arrested his at- 
tention. Who has not read Frere Jacques, 
and Mon Voisin Raymond, and Gustave. 
and the hundred other talcs of the most 
simple, natural, lively, and entertaining, if 
not the most moral novelist of the day' 
Paul de Kock loves an incident, even 
though it may be a grave one, for he has 
an alchemy to extract fun out of it, or the 
art to throw it into a grotesque form, with- 
out destroying its pathos, which he would 



114 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



be the last to lessen. So Paul de Kock 
looked at Oceanus, and the books, and the 
dog, and smiled ; and as Trouve saw no- 
thing but good humour in his eye when he 
borrowed John Bunyan, without saying 
' with your leave,' the dog said nothing, 
and quietly waited to see what might come 
of it. Paul de Kock, although he hates 
English as he hates an Englishman, and 
hates an Englishman as a good Catholic 
should hate a heretic, can yet read an 
English book ; but the lofty fiction and 
stern morals of Bunyan's homely prose 
epic were as little appreciated by the nov- 
elist as are his own light, licentious pages 
by the disciples of the divine. He could 
not understand Pilgrim, nor find anything 
worthy of note in his story, excepting his 
adventures at ' Vanity Fair.' But, in ex- 
changing the Pilgrim for the New Testa- 
ment, Paul opened a volume which he had 
often read of, if he had never read. There- 
in he could have found much music to 
which a sympathy in his own heart would 
have responded ; and as his eye fell casu- 
ally upon the sorrow of the widow of Nain, 
it did not leave it until a tear told that her 
grief was his own. He next drew Roderic 
Random from his hiding-place, and thought 
more kindly of the boy who had made a text- 
book of the best sea story ever written. 
There was one other volume behind ; and 
when thy pages, full of frolic, of humour, of 
wit, of all that is joyous in life, met his eye, 
Tom Jones, how did a kindred spirit kin- 
dle ! Paul now loved the sleeping Ocea- 
nus, caressed Trouve, sat himself down 
at the boy's side, and, blind to the wonder 
of the passers-by, who stopped, and stared, 
and marvelled what the popular novelist 
might be doing there, he resuscitated the 
merry Middlesex justice, made the old 
corridor ring again with Fielding read by 
one who knows liow to read him, and 
laughed and shouted until his eyes ran 
over. Trouve went mad with joy, and Oce- 
anus awoke, witn a scream, from a dream 
of the old Tar and his boisterous mirth. 

" With such an introduction, the com- 
pact was soon made ; and the kind novel- 
ist led the youthful truant and Trouve to 
his house upon the Boulevard Saint Martin. 
There Paul and Oceanus seated them- 
selves at the window which the former 
loved ; for it looked out upon the prome- 
nade, and exhibited life, civilized life, in 
its hours of relaxation, when the spirit, re- 
leased from the cares of the body, from the 
thousand wants, natural and artificial, from 
the thousand ambitions, and the thousand 
jealousies, which spring from the contact 
of man with man, herded in cities, from 
the strifes for mastery in power, in wealth, 
for food, gambols as it gambolled in the 
beginning, taking little thought of aught 
else than present pleasure. Oceanus told 
his story, and Paul said it was worth the 



telling. He called for wine. ' Drink,' said 
he ; 'it is light, it is Hemenes ; your head 
is strong, and can bear it. Drink to the 
good old Tar ; drink to your mother, the 
inamorata ; drink to the knowing Gustave 
and his show ; drink to the frail brunette ; 
drink to the spruce-looking Jacques, with 
his poverty and aspirations : we are all 
players in this theatre of ours, and it mat- 
ters little what rule we choose, so we do 
not mar the drama by our unskilfulness. 
You have brought a letter to me, Oceanus, 
from one I love. A page of Fielding 
would open my heart, were it locked with 
adamant. He should have lived in Paris ; 
and certainly it was by accident that he 
was born out of it. There is no place like 
Paris, Oceanus : Paris is to the earth what 
the sun is to the universe, and all without 
its walls are "outside barbarians." Now 
tell me what you intend to do, you little 
demi-savage. Here is my house ; it is at 
your service : stay with me. I will be 
your master, and you shall learn my own 
trade. I will make a novelist of you ; no- 
thing is easier. Writing books is much 
like making shoes ; it all comes with prac- 
tice. You have but to look out of this 
window, catch a figure in your eye, ob- 
serve its nose and mouth — for a man's 
nose and mouth tell all that he is — and 
copy away after nature. Do you see that 
woman? I can tell you her story in fif- 
teen pages, merely from her walk ! She 
is engaged in an intrigue, and will meet 
her lover in less than ten minutes by a. 
stop-watch. Now, starting with such data, 
we have only to catch up some dozen of 
the odd characters who are continually 
passing and repassing before us, put them 
down again as we may want to use them, 
move them about as one would the pieces- 
upon a chessboard, pitch A against. B, and 
C against both, pass between the two lov- 
ers, and so mix events as to beat out an 
interval of six minutes into six days, and 
the work is done I Egad ! I think your 
own history would furnish a very pretty 
web for a tale ; suppose we commence 
weaving upon that V 

" Oceanus was a little abashed by Paul's 
characteristic address; and he looked out 
of the window, and knew not what to say. 
But he had not yet lost the desire of ma- 
king money ; and his ear had beew too 
lately used to Jacques's flattering elo- 
quence to listen willingly to a proposition 
which seemed to take away all hops of 
wealth. So, as the wine worked upoa 
him, and gave him courage, and as Paul 
pressed him for his resolution, he told his 
generous host that he was young indeed, 
but would become old ; and that in his 
country old age without money would not 
command respect from the youths of the 
Republic. 

" ' You are a precocious boy, and have a 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



115 



brave heart,' said Paul. ' Here you are, 
without a friend in all Paris, unless it be 
myself; dropping from the open street into 
a brothel, from a brothel into the hands of 
the police, from the police into the hands 
of a sharper, or a crackbrained fool, who 
fattened your imagination at the expense 
of your body, and yet, when I ofler you a 
plate at the merriest table in the city, you 
hesitate to accept it. But you shall have 
money, since money is the appetite of your 
countrymen. Stay with me a year, and 
I will give you the proceeds of my next 
novel.' 

" Oceanus felt like driving a bargain, so 
he asked what the proceeds of his next 
novel might be. 

" ' Why, you little Thiers in embryo,' 
exclaimed Paul, ' you will one day be rich- 
er than the king. But you will make me 
angry with you. Fy ! this window is 
worth a thousand francs to one who es- 
teems the world to be nothing more than 
a large puppet-show, as I do. C'est fini ! 
you are mine for a twelvemonth. And 
now, after you have looked about your 
quarters, selected your room, and visited 
my cabinet of natural history, we will sit 
down together and play ecarte until the 
hour for dinner.' 

" It had been a long time since Oceanus 
had had a choice of chambers ; he loved 
nothing of nature except its water ; and as 
to ecarte, he had never held a pack of cards 
in his hands so as to know them ; but Paul 
had a fury for ecarte, and as it is a simple 
game, easily learned with a little instruc- 
tion, the novelist and Oceanus were soon 
counting tries, which all fell to the boy's 
side, he being a beginner. 

" And there was Oceanus, by the merest 
chance in the world, snugly quartered upon 
the good feelings of the liveliest writer of 
the day. Paul de Kock, with all his gross- 
ness, and I may say impurity, is the most 
healthy, and therefore the best delineator 
of manners to be found in modern French 
literature. He speaks without effort, and 
tells his story with all the simplicity of 
style and richness of incident that charac- 
terize the artless histories of glorious 
childhood. What can be more sunny than 
his scenes of innocent frolic, moving our 
mirth, not with coarse laughter, like the 
broad pencil of Smollett, but quietly giving 
birth to the silent intellectual joy which is 
ever created by an hour's converse with 
Sir Roger de Coverly^ And what can 
possess a deeper pathos than some of the 
pages of the story of Frere Jacques ? Paul 
de Kock is the Herodotus of fiction. He 
writes for the kitchen, say the Parisians ; 
and his works are found in the boudoir of 
the palace. He is unworthy to take rank 
with Balsac, and La Martine, and Hugo, 
and George Sand ; and the holy father at 
Home first asks you if you have read the. 



inspirations of Paul de Kock. I will not 
say that Paul de Kock is Fontaine writing 
prose, but he is something like it. He is 
immortal, and that is enough. 

" If Oceanus had been older, or if he had 
been differently educated, he might have 
appreciated the frequent converse of brill- 
iant wit and polished manners which en- 
livened and graced the novelist's table ; 
but, as it was, he cared little for excellen- 
ces which, both from their newness and 
their subtilty, he could not value ; and he 
had no sooner become used to his improved 
position than his thoughts returned to the 
sea, and, forgetting all things else, lived 
upon the water. Paul was somewhat dis- 
appointed in finding his protege's learning, 
as well as his literature, wholly confined 
to the four books he carried at all times 
upon his person ; and however much the 
adventures of Scoresby and Parry, with 
the open boat navigation of Captain Bligh, 
might enliven one of Oceanus's yarns 
about the ocean, yet such materials were 
ill fitted to form the groundwork of the 
structure which Paul hoped to build, a 
monument to his own generosity and pen- 
etration. He therefore resolved to put the 
boy in training ; and knowing very well 
that no one mind was ever made to grasp 
all things, he wisely determined to com- 
mence with that subject which was to 
claim his sole attention in life. With this 
intention, he one day put into the hands 
of our hero a small copy of the most im- 
portant of the writings of the Archbishop 
of Cambrai. 

" If Oceanus could not bear the restraints 
of a school in the days of the inamorata, 
his subsequent wanderings had certainly 
not fitted him for the reception of a strict- 
er discipline ; and Le Telemaque, cold, 
prosy, monotonous, and tiresome, moral 
and philosophical, and therein feeble, fell 
from his drowsy hands unread. If, as 
Villemain says, Homer, Xenophon, and 
Plato begot the good Fenelon's epic, we 
can only regret they were not better em- 
ployed. It is precisely that mfelange of 
' idees bienfaisantes,' borrowed from the 
Cyropedia, with the imagination and the 
philosophy of Plato, diluted, and more than 
half lost by their translation into a language 
possessing neither vigour nor compass, 
that casting of the fables of Homer anew 
in the wisdom of Socrates, that union of 
philosophy the most pure with policy the 
most humane, that gives to ' Le Telemaque'* 
all its dulness. 

" National prejudices blind the most far- 
seeing ; and it is possible that Paul may 
esteem Le Telemaque the first of epics; 
but we must, in charity, conclude that the 
book was selected more for its purity of 
style than for its artistical excellence. 
Oceanus was apprenticed to the trade of 
an author, and, as it is wise to put the mo«t 



116 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



perfect tools into the hands of the learner 
of the most humble of the mechanical arts, 
so it is best that a student of the humani- 
ties should be first made acquainted with 
the most classic writers. In this respect, 
Telemaque holds a place pre-eminent in 
French literature, and is all that a lan- 
guage irremediably barren, and incapable, 
from its very structure, of giving fit ex- 
pression to our higher thoughts, can attain. 
Who would recognise the orations of De- 
mosthenes in French prose ! 

" Paul was not at all surprised that a 
lover of Tom Jones should not take to the 
Archbishop of Cambrai ; and perceiving a 
strong inclination on the part of Oceanus 
to better his condition by running away, 
rather than be crammed, against his will, 
with food which did not fit his digestion, he 
wisely substituted the vigour of Corneille ; 
the strength of Racine, like the electric 
fluid, passes off upon highly polished points, 
and the comedies of Moliere, which, being 
nature, the simplest mind readily compre- 
hends, is soon in unison with, and most 
vividly enjoys, for prose whose dulness is 
more than redeemed by its music. 

" Oceanus devoured the comic writer ; 
although he had read but little French, he 
learned rapidly, and, living amid his scenes, 
he passed through many weeks of happi- 
ness. But Corneille and Moliere were not 
the only authors to whom Paul introduced 
his pupil. He would often read his own 
novels to him ; and when Oceanus's eyes 
ran over with laughter, the master rested 
content with his labour. Sometimes Paul, 
when the humour was upon him, would 
write a volume, currente calama, throwing 
it off in fifteen days ; then would the house 
ring from morning until late into the night 
with the boy's merriment ; for he would 
sit at the novelist's side, join in the la- 
bour of composition, catch the new-coined 
wit as it fell from his master's pen, criti- 
cise, and roar again, until Paul caught the 
contagion, joined in the laughter, and 
swore, with a Frenchman's ' sacre,' he be- 
lieved he had done enough for that sitting. 

" Oceanus sometimes dipped into the 
olden literature, and was once caught 
shaking his sides over the ' Pleasant and 
joyous History of the great Giant Gargan- 
tia.' It may appear incredible that one so 
young, and so new to the French language, 
should be capable-of, mastering the difficul- 
ties and appreciating the wit of Rabelais ; 
but those who will take the trouble to ex- 
amine critically into the matter, or test 
truth by experiment, will find that the lan- 
guage of Rabelais has, in many points^ so 
strong an affinity with our own, bastardized 
as the last is by the forced marriage of the 
old Saxon with the Norman of William, 
that the father of Pantagruehsm is more 
readily understood by a native of London 
than by a citizen of Paris. No student in 



my own profession, although wholly unac- 
quainted with French, will find it difficult 
to read the original text of the ' Tenures' of 
Littleton. 

" In this way Oceanus lived six months 
in the house of the novelist ; a neophyte 
literator, giving fair promise of the future. 
His days were varied with many pleasures, 
among which the chiefest was bathing in 
the Seine ; a luxury he indulged in at all 
hours, notwithstanding the protests of the 
police, who made Paul pay in fines, for the 
redemption of his protege, a sum nearly 
equal to the proceeds of a novel. He be- 
came acquainted with the brilliant De Bal- 
zac, whom he hated for his want of heart ; 
and he often met with Dumas, whom he 
disliked for his Ethiopic extraction. But 
De Balzac had heart enough to overlook the 
boy's coldness, and often took occasion to 
encourage his labours by recounting his 
own early and seemingly hopeless strug- 
gles for fame. With rare intrepidity, and a 
constancy which nothing could shake, he 
wrote and published twenty romances be- 
fore the good-natured public would be con- 
vinced that he could write at all ; and as 
volume after volume fell still-born from the 
press, he affected a most sovereign con- 
tempt for the taste of others, and wrote on 
to please his own. De Balzac would have 
done much for Oceanus, had he not, in at- 
tempting to do a great deal, have deprived 
himself of the possibility of doing anything 
at all. De Balzac is a vain man, and 
thinks that he writes better than any man 
who ever came before him, or tliat shall 
ever come after him ; and that of all he has 
written, his satire, entitled ' Physiologie du 
Mariage,' is the very best. So one day, 
when Oceanus was refreshing his moral 
faculties with allegorical wisdom out of 
honest Jolin Bunyan, De Balzac presented 
him with a copy of his ' Physiologie du 
Mariage.' The gift and the time of its 
presentation were both equally unfortu- 
nate. Oceanus had often shrunk from the 
grossness of Paul ; but grossncss carries 
its own antidote, is open, and warns us of 
our danger before it strikes ; it is the gloss- 
ing of obscenity, the clothing of vice in the 
vestments of beauty, which deceives and 
entraps the unwary ; which does its work 
here, and sliall be rewarded hereafter, even 
as the erratic poet in the Russian fable is 
rewarded — he sits in a kettle heated by fires 
a thousand fold hotter tlian those which 
burn beneath his neighbour who died con- 
victed of theft. And here I might draw a 
parallel between the Physiologie du Ma- 
riage of Balzac and Petronius Arbiter, as 
histories of the morals of the two great 
capitals of the world at the widely separ- 
ated eras of perfect ancient and perfect 
modern civilization ; but he who has read 
the Roman will hardly confess his knowl- 
edge, and the day approaches when the 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



117 



Frank will receive an equal condemna- 
tion. 

" Oceanus read the book, fascinated by 
its wit, the point of its satire, the lustre of 
its periods, from its beg-inning to its close. 
And this is Paris ! the great heart of the 
world ! Meretricious, rotten to its core. 
False in everything, except in its base- 
ness and its misery. Wanting in virtue, 
and therefore wanting in everything which 
renders the condition of liumanity — always, 
and under all circumstances, encompassed 
with evil — even supportable. Oceanus 
threw the book from him, and sought the 
open street. He stripped the pages of the 
satirist of their eloquence, and Paris, naked, 
in its moral deformity, stood before him. 
The truth had come to him, and he could 
not breathe freely in the confined atmo- 
sphere of a room. ' All is not gold that 
glitters.' So it ever is with the freshness 
and purity of youth. When the deceits of 
manhood first break upon it, and, half 
awaked from its dreams, it begins to dis- 
trust, it seeks the open thorouglifares, the 
fields, mountain, and wood, and, avoiding 
mortality, holds communion with the great 
elements, fire, and earth, and water, and 
air ; for they are types of the power which 
created them. 

" Oceanus walked to the Seine ; the roar 
of the vast ocean he loved filled his imagi- 
nation. He went down to the stone steps 
near the Marche-au-Fleur ; the earlier days 
of his childhood came back to him, and 
home, with all its associations. Eight 
months had passed away since, escaped 
from the coche, alone, houseless, weary, 
and hungry, he had there thanked Heaven 
that he found himself in Paris ; and those 
eight months had brought to him more of 
sorrow than of happiness. What had he 
done, and what was he doing? What, but 
to tread from the beginning in the paths 
of vice ! Now more pleasant, misnamed, 
and misunderstood, indeed, but equally 
certain in their course towards a moral 
death. An el6ve of Paul de Kock, and 
Honore de Balzac ! A fit sequence to the 
wisdom of the fair brunette and tlie philos- 
ophy of Jacques. Oceanus sat upon the 
stone steps near the March6-au-Fleur, and 
mused long and deeply. He returned to 
the house of the novelist thoughtful and 
depressed. He sought for a book to dissi- 
pate his melancholy ; he put his hand upon 
' Attala.' He opened the volume, and 
read : ' Ne pouvant plus resister a I'envie 
de retourner au desert, un matin je me 
presentai a Lopez, vetu de mes habits de 
sauvage, tenant d'une main mon arc et 
mes filches, et de I'autre mes vetements 
Europeens. Je les remis a mon gencreux 
protecteur, aux pieds duquel je tombai en 
versant des torrents de larmes. Je me 
donnai des noms odieux, je m'accusal d'in- 
gratiiude. Mais enfin, lui dis-je — 6 mon 



pere ! tu le vois toi-m^me, je meurs si je 
ne reprends la vie de I'lndien.' 

" The following morning Oceanus pre- 
sented himself before Paul, dressed like 
one about to start upon a journey. In one 
hand he held a small bundle, which con- 
tained whatever of his wardrobe he did not 
carry upon his back ; in the other was Le 
Vicomte de Chateaubriand's pretty tale of 
' Attala.' 

" ' Where are you going, mon brave gar- 
Qonf demanded Paul, in a tone of surprise. 

" Oceanus opened Attala, and pointed to 
the passage just cited. 

" ' And so hastily !' said Paul, huskily, 
much moved by the incident : ' but I have 
expected it. Yes, return to your uncle, mon 
petit sauvage. I would have tamed you ; 
but happiness is alone worthy of pursuit in 
life ; and we must seek for it where we 
have reason to believe it is most easily to 
be found. Return to your uncle ; yet let 
me make better preparation for your de- 
parture.' 

" Oceanus threw himself into the arms 
of his benefactor, acknowledged his many 
kindnesses, said he was ready, and w'ould 
go — go as he came, taking with him little 
else than some knowledge of vice dearly 
paid for, and the warm love of one whom 
he should always name among the fore- 
most in his prayers. 

" Paul and Oceanus parted at the stone 
steps near the Marche-au-Fleur. The boy 
descended the Seine as he had ascended it, 
in a coche ; and when the last farewell 
was given, and the oars dipped into the 
water, the novelist confessed the pathos of 
a real scene in the romance of life. 

" If Oceanus's second entrance into Le 
Havre wanted the sunshine of hope, he a 
second time left it less depressed by the 
memory of crushed expectations. For- 
getful of Gustave, forgetful of the scenes 
of his late joy and sorrow, forgetful even 
of the old merchant who so kindly made 
known to him the result of his speculation 
in cotton, he shipped for New Orleans ; 
and, as he stood out of the harbour, and 
sailed along the coast, until the last of the 
windmills dipped beneath the sea, his hea/J 
mounted to his throat, and he thau'"^^ 
his God, the Maker of the ocean '^^'*J 
there, upon the waters, men could iv' build 
and congregate in cities." 



CHAPTER -T^X. 

oceanus's return. 

" And I might have f'ied the;*,' imprisoned as I 
was, had not a friend Ound nie but."— Hackluyt s 
Voyages. 

ARGUI/ENT. 
A Meeting at Sea. — Oceanus arrives at New Or- 
leans. — le Imprisoji*d. — The Cicerone. - Ocea- 
nus's First Lessgrt in Prison.— Oceanus and tli* 



118 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



Cicerone in the Vaults.— Legerdemain.— The Ci- 
cerone instructs Oceanus how to become a Fin- 
ished Rogue— Bulwer'sWrituigs. — Tlie Cicerone 
in Pantomime. — The Priest— Oceanus learns that 
" Pilgrim's Progress" .is not the Old Testament. — 
Oceanus meets with his Uncle. — Conclusion. 

SECTION XIV. 

" And now," continued the lawyer, " I 
will give you the last chapter in this boy's 
history, the conclusion whereof will bring 
ns unto that middle hour of the night which 
our host most loves, and to whose utmost 
limit he is ever anxious to draw out that 
most social of all meetings, a dinner served 
for three. 

" Oceanus's third voyage across the At- 
lantic was, in its immediate consequences, 
little less disastrous than the former two, 
of which the first deprived him of his moth- 
er, and the second wrecked his fortune. 
He had been out hardly ten days, when 
the whole ship's crew, taking in high dud- 
geon the drudgery which, on board a mer- 
chantman, occupies a sailor's hours off 
watch, moved aft in a body to urge their 
grievances upon their captain. Oceanus, 
as the smallest and most innocent-looking 
of the company, was compelled, much 
against his will, to act as spokesman. 
He knew the duties and subordination be- 
coming a sailor as well as another, and re- 
fused to have part or lot in the matter ; 
but a large, brawny Spaniard, with a breath 
much like that of the Caliph Abd'almalec 
Ebn Merwan, who, by a fine figure in rhet- 
oric, was called the ' father of flies,' grasp- 
ing him firmly about the neck, so plied one 
ear with threats against the youth's liver 
if he did not speak according to dictation, 
while he whispered into the other what 
was to be said, that he could not hand- 
somely decline doing all that was required 
of him. 

" The captain, who was a man of decis- 
ion, was not loi.^ in making up an opinion 
upon the subject of his crew's complaints ; 
and rightly judging that a boy, with his 
neck between the jaws of a vice, could not 
be well held accountable for the sounds it 
emitted, he very kindly advised Oceanus 
to dodge the weight of an argument which 
was to fall, in the shape of a handspike, 
upon the head and Herculean shoulders of 
the Spaniard. These things are soon end- 
ed. The big Spaniard's courage sank to a 
level with the ship's deck, and handcuflTs 
and gyves were received by some half doz- 
en of his associates as quietly as a lady 
receives her bracelets from the hands of a 
lover. 

The remainder of Uie voyage was even 
enough ; and, notwithstanding the captain 
had some misgivings as to Oceanus being 
an idolater, from his seeming worship of 
the sea, and frequent communion with that 
element, the Balize were made in good 
time. 



"As the ship, with all sails furled, and 
yards neatly trimmed, moved towards the 
city, drawn against the current by the 
power of steam, Oceannus's heart beat 
with a thousand conflicting emotions. His 
travels were at an end, and memory, which, 
with the rapidity of light, ran back through 
all their iiijcidents, told him that he had not 
done well. As he stepped from shipboard 
upon land, the blush of shame mantled upon 
his cheek ; his uncle, in imagination, stood 
before him ; he wanted courage to go for- 
ward ; and he turned back, and hid him- 
self within the forecastle, which received 
him as a friend. But a deeper suff'ering 
was to overtake him than his own self- 
abasement ; for, wherever he might hide 
himself, he could not escape the searching 
fingers of the law. 

" A sailor is a ward in admiralty, with- 
out the capacity of ever arriving at years 
of discretion. The captain had been made 
acquainted with this maxim of the books,' 
and was too wise not to profit by his 
knowledge. No sooner, therefore, had 
his vessel touched the Levee, than he fore- 
stalled an action for damages by an affida- 
vit of mutiny. That was what he called 
'laying out an anchor to windward.' 

" It is astonishing how much position 
affects opinion ! The captain as prosecu- 
tor, and the captain as defendant, finds 
that justice has two faces ; and Jack soon 
learns that a court, with all its professions 
of protection, is much like a stepmother 
when he stands in the dock. 

" A sailor can give no better security 
than the four walls of a prison ; and, as 
Oceanus's testimony was material, he, too, 
was joined in the same bond with the big 
Spaniard and his half dozen associates. 
The law says wisely, ' that married wom- 
en and children, not being able to bind 
themselves, must procure some other to 
be bound for them.' But who, in this large 
city, would enter into a recognisance for 
the appearance, on a day stated, of the 
youthful, runaway sailor-lad, Oceanus ? 
So the boy was fain to come forth from 
out his hiding-place, and, eschewing all 
unnecessary fear of soon meeting with his 
uncle, take chambers for a time at the 
state's expense. 

SECTION XV. 

"A prison! God save the young who 
enter within its portals ! Many have cross- 
ed its threshold in purity, to come foiih a 
contamination ! The pest-house, where 
civilization collects and herds its vices, to 
sweat and rot until, like the slime of a 
stagnant pool, they generate life innumer- 
able, and go forth, under new shapes, and 
with a new existence, to vex the earth. 
Thus it is that crime is renewed, transmit- 
ted from generation to generation, and 
made immortal. As surely as the blood 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



119 



fiows from the centre to the extremities, 
so surely do we of this age drink of the 
■cup which was mixed in the prisons of the 
most ancient of days! Alas! how fearful 
is the responsibility of him through whom 
sin first came into the world '■ 

" Oceanus's young heart lost its bold- 
ness, his joyous face its colour, and his 
soft limbs shook like an aspen leaf, when 
the grated door swung harshly to, and its 
bolts were drawn, one by one, upon him. 
Why was he there ? Had he escaped so 
many perils ni the old world, to meet with 
such a reception on his return to the new ? 
Ignorant of the wisdom and the justice of 
the law, he asked an explanation of its 
mysteries of those who were about him, 
equally unfortunate with himself, and his 
inquiries were answered with shouts of 
laughter. The murderer, the prowling pad, 
the burglar, the sneaking thief, the repre- 
sentative of every crime, sullen, silent, 
thoughtless, noisy, clothed with filth, naked, 
tricked out with the ready trappings of a 
slop-shop foppery, were there, and receiv- 
ed with merriment each new-comer. 

" The scene was new, and Oceanus's spir- 
it was new, unhackneyed, notwithstand- 
ing his travels, to all the ways of the world ; 
so curiosity soon got the better of fear and 
■wonder, and the boy, instinctively thrust- 
ing his hands into his pockets, looked 
coolly about him, asked no more questions, 
and began to think that he might possibly 
have been worse accommodated. But 
knowledge of every kind has its price; and 
even vice exacts a premium of its appren- 
tices. Oceanus soon learned this truth ; 
for as he walked along the cells, and into 
the common yard, opening his eyes to all 
he saw, and admiring the strange mixture 
of filth and strivings after cleanliness, ex- 
treme debility and physical strength, tears 
and laughter, hardened crime and appa- 
rent innocence, groans, curses, and depre- 
cations exhibited by the company, amid 
which he found himself, a figure that sat 
apart, enthroned within a dirty blanket, the 
seeming genius of the place, very kindly 
volunteered his services as guide and cice- 
rone. 

" The cicerone explained to Oceanus the 
mysteries of the place, pointed out to him 
its greatest geniuses, told a great deal of 
biography, and closed with what he called 
the investiture of citizenship. That cere- 
mony was performed after this manner: 
tlie cicerone first calling around him a mot- 
ley crowd of the inmates of the yard, threw 
his own filthy blanket very gracefully over 
Oceanus's head in such a way as to shut 
out the light from every point of the com- 
pass ; then drawing the four corners tight- 
ly about the boy's neck, he held him in a 
quiet, erect position, while his companions 
picked his pockets and his back until they 
left him iiaked, without wealth, excepting 



old .John Bunyan and the New Testament ; 
and without clothing, excepting the sailor 
trowsers, which they spared to his youth- 
ful modesty. Oceanus, when released from 
the blanket, looked a little wild ; but that 
expression wore ofi' with the congratula- 
tions of his new friends, who generously 
informed him that he was now one of 
themselves — equal in privileges and ap- 
pearance. 

" Naked from the waist upward, one can- 
not say much for the boy's appearance ; 
yet the costume had its advantages, inas- 
much as, by reducing him to an equality 
with those with whom he was to consort, 
it gave him an easy assurance which he 
would not otherwise have readily attained. 
But the privileges conferred were impor- 
tant, and consisted in being admitted to par- 
ticipate, in full communion, in all the eu; 
joyments and secrets of the prison-house. 
And let no one esteem too lightly such en- 
joyments ; fellowship is much, even with 
the guilty, when cut off from all other as- 
sociation ; and the hand of the murderer is 
capable of many kindnesses. Oceanus ex- 
perienced this truth, and acknowledged it 
long before he went out from the walls he 
had entered, he knew not why, and which 
he left with some feelings of regret. 

" ' Crime is spread like a pall over the face 
of the earth !' Oceanus had gone aside to 
give vent, unobserved, to the grief he felt 
at parting with his constant companions in 
travel, Roderic Random and Tom Jones ; 
they had just passed through the grated 
window in exchange for a more liquid com- 
modity. ' Crime is spread like a pall over 
the face of the earth I' Oceanus turned 
around, and saw an old man standing near 
by, whose eyes, suffused in tears, were bent 
mournfully upon him ; his feeble limbs 
could ill sustain the thin weight which 
rested upon them, and he soon sank, ex- 
hausted, upon the pavement ; then calling 
to the boy, he bid him sit down at his side. 
Oceanus obeyed, much wondering what 
the old man wished to say. 

" ' My son,' said the old man, putting his 
shaking hand upon Oceanus's head, ' I was 
once young in crime like yourself.' 

" Oceanus interrupted the old man, and 
very innocently assured him that he was 
there for no crime, or for any cause, that 
he wot of. 

" My son,' said the old man, heaving a 
deep sigh as he looked upon the boy's 
white skin and delicate limbs, not yet tan- 
ned and hardened by exposure, ' deceit is 
out of place with me. You can neither 
gain by falsehood, nor lose by truth. Be 
silent and listen, if your lips are wedded to 
a lie. I was once as young in crime as 
yourself; my skin was as fair, and my 
feet, which have trod the stony floors of a 
hundred cells, were as soft and velvety as 
your own. Even now, with eighty winters 



120 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



upon my head, memory is fresh and green 
within me, and I feel the prints of a moth- 
er's kiss upon sobs which have worn away 
the flint of many prisons. Oh ! that I had 
died before I had eaten of the tree whose 
fruit gives us the knowledge of good and 
evil. The first crime is the greatest, for it 
is the father of all which come after it. 
The first impure thought moulds the vir- 
gin to a whore, and leads the boy upward 
to a manhood of shame. I was taught 
this truth early in life, for I cannot cloak 
my deeds with lowliness of birth or the 
blindness of ignorance. I embraced sin 
knowingly, and walked onward in its paths 
until my garments were like unto his who 
came from Edom, red with the blood of 
men. Crime became my passion, and I 
sought evil as the drunkard seeks his cups. 
My son, turn while there is yet time, and 
not enough of habit to render repentance 
impossible. God may forgive one so 
young, and years of good works may blot 
out the record of an incipient wrong ; but 
who will forgive me a long life of wicked- 
ness, or what farther lime may I expect to 
win forgetfulness of the past ? My son, it 
is not this body, heavy with tears, that I 
bemoan, but a spirit crushed beneath a load 
of crime which I must bear throughout 
eternity. Be warned, and may your re- 
pentance plead for me.' 

" The old man rested his head upon 
Oceanus's breast, put his fingers slyly into 
Oceanus's side pockets, turned them inside 
out, and finding nothing, thrust the boy 
from him with curses, saying ' that he was 
a young and most incorrigible sinner, who 
would never come to any good !' 

" And this was Oceanus's first lesson 
within the walls of a prison. 

SECTION XVI. 

" Many days passed, and Oceanus grew 
used to his new condition. The captain 
of the merchantman had gained his point, 
and the mutineers were soon discharged 
for want of a prosecutor ; but Oceanus, 
who had committed no crime, was not 
upon the books ; he therefore was at first 
overlooked, and then, being small, finally 
forgotten. He insensibly put on the hab- 
its of those around him, and learned to 
love their pleasures. He caught the slang 
of the prison-house, and studied hard to 
add many new words to Mr. Grose's Dic- 
tionary. He grew filthy about his person, 
forgot the toilet lectures of his friend 
Jacques, and became ragged in his nether 
and only garment, so that his popularity 
with his associates exceeded that of the 
famous Salem Ebn Ziyad, protector of the 
province of Khorasan, who, during the two 
months he held office, stood as godfather to 
twenty thousand children. 

" Oceanus's acquaintances changed with 
each opening and shutting of the prison 



doors; with him, it was much like one 
walking through the crowded thorough- 
fares of a large city, where we meet with 
new and old faces, give a nod of recogni- 
tion, say a word, and pass on. But there 
were some who remained with him, fast 
friends, and faithfully taught him all they 
knew. Of these, the cicerone of the 
blanket, who had been there time out of 
mind, and a young physician, imprisoned 
by his shoemaker, stood highest in his con- 
fidence. The cicerone took great pains 
with the youth, so that he became wonder- 
fully expert at picking a pocket, and hailed 
each new investiture of citizenship with a 
shout of joy. He taught him how to fare 
sumptuously by means of his wit, even 
when his genius was cramped within the 
compass of four walls. 

" AH doors, excepting the outer portal's, 
opened to the cicerone ; so one night he 
led Oceanus from his cell, and introduced 
him to certain queer vaults beneath the 
prison floors, and then known only to the 
elect within and without the walls. 

" Oceanus was filled with amazement, 
and jumped up and down, and shook him- 
self, thinking it a dream ; for he could not 
trust his eyes when he saw around him, in 
that strange place, rich goods, and wines, 
and all the appliances of a fat table. 

" The cicerone laughed, and asked if he 
thought the owners of those wares would 
search for them there. ' It is not to feed 
upon stale bread and small cubic pieces of 
cold boiled beef that I remain so long with 
you, or find means to return as often as I am 
ejected,' said the cicerone. ' There are 
as many ways of making money as there 
are lives to a cat ; and this is one of them. 
Every bottle that passes the grate does not 
contain whiskey ; nor are those who are 
sent here upon sham claims of debt lightly 
freighted. This is our storehouse, and I 
am its keeper. There is no good reason 
why an honest thief should not grow rich, 
retire, as other tradesmen do, and live re- 
spectably upon his gains. Most of us con- 
tinue in business too long : it is like spec- 
ulating at the gambling-table — speculating 
in cotton — tlie pitcher that goes too often 
to the well is finally broken. Now sit you 
d»wn upon the stone bench, my little Oce- 
anus, and I will tell you the history of the 
place, while we drink the health of our 
keepers in as good a glass of Burgundy as 
ever was ripened in garret or cellar.' 

" Oceanus and the cicerone sat down 
upon the stone bench together. Upon the 
floor at their feet, and upon the wall above 
their heads, and on each side of them, 
were massy iron rings, fastened into the 
rock, and used, most probably, in times 
long passed, more as means of torture than 
of security. 

" ' There is a tradition among us,' said 
the cicerone, ' which says, that many 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



12r 



years since, when this miserable country 
was young — and I call it miserable be- 
cause, like a slave, it has had many mas- 
ters — the Holy Inquisition — the most 
damnable of all the inventions of men — 
builded these vaults. That tribunal, like 
the unclean bird which hovers over ap- 
proaching armies, and scents the carnage 
before it is made, followed the Spanish 
arms around the earth ; and where they 
conquered it fastened itself, and made cor- 
poreal in the present the hell it threatened 
in a hereafter. It taught morality by the 
application of the thumb-screw, and en- 
forced its articles of faith with fire and fag- 
ot. Wherever it colonized it built a pris- 
on, and the wail of men, and women, and 
children went up to Heaven in the track 
of its footsteps. It digged more graves 
than it ever saved souls, and gloated after 
blood with an appetite keener than that of 
the young lion when he first tastes of the 
spoils of the forest.' 

" ' It was a rare monster,' said Oceanus. 

" ' It would seem to have been so,' said 
the cicerone ; ' for my own part, I know 
nothing about it. But if it did, in truth, 
build these vaults, the devil himself must 
have been at the head of it ; for there is 
nothing here, excepting my own wines, 
victuals, and merchandise, which smells 
of Christianity. See ! the walls are dotted 
v/ith iron rings and crucifixes ; upon that 
small altar of hewn stone in the centre stood 
the taper and crucifix; and upon these lit- 
tle stone benches were seated the victims, 
their limbs braced with chains, so that they 
could neither stand nor lie, but died and 
rotted where they sat. Groan answered 
groan, and both were echoed back from 
the vaults still beyond. Each maniac 
glared upon his opposite, and each raved 
for the flesh he saw dropping from the 
other's bones !' 

" Young Oceanus's teeth clattered one 
upon the other as he looked upon the pic- 
ture the cicerone had drawn ; and he won- 
dered that man. unaffrighted by the many 
forms of wo which daily stalk the earth, 
should strive to engender it in yet more 
horrid shapes within her very womb ! 

" ' Sit closer to me, boy, and drink more 
wine ; you seem chilled with the dampness 
of the place,' said the cicerone. 

" ' See ! see !' screamed Oceanus, spring- 
ing to his feet, and crouching between the 
cicerone's knees ; ' a wretch sits upon ev- 
ery stone, and mocks us !' 

" ' Hush, child !' said the cicerone ; ' the 
keepers will hear your cry, and suspect 
that rats are working beneath the pave- 
ment. Why stare you so 1 there is no- 
thing here but my own goods and blank 
walls. Fy ! you see nothmg but the crea- 
tures of a fancy even less real than the 
shadows of my lantern, which come and 
go with every change of the slides. It is 



the only machine that I make use of ia 
my profession, and it is an important one. 
With it I can play as many tricks as a fox 
carries in his bag, and it has often saved 
me in extremity. Look ! it is managed in 
this way ;' and the cicerone, shutting ire 
the light, exhibited group after group, fro-m. 
the most threatening to the most gro- 
tesque, until Oceanus lost his fears, and 
laughed till his sides cracked. 

" ' And thus, with a proper combination 
of reflectors,' continued the cicerone, ' I 
can bring a whole family of portraits into 
position, give action to a painting, and turn 
a house inside out. I have more than once 
shaken the nerves of men wuth stout hearts 
by carrying the public street, with all its 
passengers, directly through the centre of 
a receiving-room. But this is the ma- 
chinery of the profession, which every fool 
may master ; I will show you other arts, 
\vhich are to be attained only after infinite 
toil, and, as you are a boy of some genius, 
in for life, since you are here for no cause,, 
perhaps you had better divert yourself with 
striving to become an adept in them.' 

" The cicerone rose, and, throwing off 
his blanket, stood stripped to the waist be- 
fore Oceanus ; then tying a handkerchief 
about his loins, so as to form a pocket at 
his back, ' Now,' said he, ' I am about to 
exhibit to your admiring eyes the most 
beautiful, the most simple, and the most 
difficult of all the tricks of the juggler ;; 
it is that of the •' cups and balls." The' 
greater part of his wonders are wrought 
out with the aid of machinery, but this de- 
pends wholly upon the velocity of his 
movements. Come, let us go to the altar ; 
you shall sit upon one side, while I stand 
upon the other, and if, with the closest at- 
tention, you can detect the cheat, you will 
do that which I cannot, even when prac- 
ticing before a mirror.' 

" Oceanus and the cicerone took their 
positions. Had an inquisitor, loosed for a 
time from his trial of fire, then have look- 
ed in upon the master and his scholar, he 
would have made the old vault ring again 
with boisterous joy ; for the altar of super- 
stition was covered with tlie tools of a 
mountebank as cunning as himself 

" The cicerone put tlie cups and balls 
into Oceanus's hands, tliat he might see 
there was no fraud about them. The cups 
were of porcelain, and rang clear, without 
crack or false bottom. 

" ' Look sharp,' said the cicerone, arran- 
ging the cups in a line upon the altar ; 
' you shall fully understand the method by 
which I perform this trick, and yet shall 
not be able to detect the means in the per- 
formance.' 

" The cicerone commanded the balls at 
his pleasure ; they were where he willed 
them to be, single or together, while he 
stood with his naked arms stretched out 



122 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



over the altar, and seemingly moved nei- 
ther hand nor finger. 

" ' The devil, or an inquisitor, aids you,' 
shouted Oceanus, as, at the close of the 
show, cups and all vanished openly before 
his wondering eyes. 

" The cicerone turned, and showed the 
tools he had played with lying in the pock- 
et at his back ! 

" 'Thus it is that a wondrous skill comes 
after and rewards a long-continued labour,' 
said the cicerone, packing away the ' cups 
and balls,' and setting out the vacant al- 
tar with pieces of roast fowl, bread, and 
■wine. 

" ' Our profession no longer admits of the 
rough carriage and open violence which 
distinguished its magnates of a century 
since. This is the age of a true civiliza- 
tion, when, by a frequent intercourse, all na- 
tions have become as one great family, and 
there is no concealment for crime other 
than the dress of manners. We must now 
live within the very bosom of society in 
order to escape observation, and practise 
the arts of a luxurious refinement if we 
•would hedge about our acts with a defence 
against suspicion. Take a piece of the 
duck, Oceanus ; it was brought in yester- 
day by the fat gentleman, who, you will 
remember, was imprisoned for an hour on 
a false suspicion of debt. He carried a 
brace in each sleeve of his coat, and cov- 
ered with his doublet stores for a month. 
Should you ever get into the world again, 
you will find it more convenient to pick a 
pocket than to demand a purse upon the 
highway ; and learn that a well-sustained 
system of genteel financiering is, in the 
end, more productive than the most suc- 
cessful hits at housebreaking. Tear the 
meat with your fingers, Oceaiuis ; don't 
use the knife too much ; above all things, 
never cut bread : these are matters of im- 
portance, for bree''ing is never so well 
tested as at the dinner-table ; and there, if 
there is anything false about you, it is 
much apt to peep out. The tricks which 
I have just played before you are the best 
preparative for one who is determined to 
excel in a delicate adaptation to the exi- 
gences of a polished and advancing state 
of society. Never eat more than one sort 
of vegetables with any single dish, Ocea- 
nus ; nor load your plate with condiments : 
you may in that way detect a cook. They 
give ease and quietness to the carriage, 
and enable you to remove a gentleman's 
snuff-box from beneath his very nose. Put 
the wine in the other glass, Oceanus ; you 
must be very circumspect in such trifles, 
or you will be thought to have been suck- 
led upon a more vulgar liquid. But if the 
' cups and balls' are the best manual exer- 
cise which my experience, and it is not of 
a late date, can recommend to a youth 
who js ambitious of the highest distinction 



in the profession, yet there are other and 
more intellectual labours, which impart a 
corresponding adroitness to the mind, and 
are equally necessary to success. Hold 
your knife jauntily in your hand, as if eating 
were more a matter of amusement than 
of necessity ; and remember that, upon no 
occasion whatever, must you carve ; starve 
first. In directing you what, and in what 
way to eat, I have plainly intimated that 
the manners and dress which are the fash- 
ion of the time must be assumed and worn 
as if they had been put upon your back at 
your birth ; and this is a thing not easily 
to be accomplished ; for although many 
may dress to a character, but few know- 
how to act it. Never pick your teeth at 
the table, Oceanus ; if the Italians do so, 
it is because they are as wanting in deli- 
cacy as in morals. Now, there are two 
ways of studying men : the first and better 
is personal observation, the other is obser- 
vation at second hand. Hold your glass 
as if its weight oppressed you ; and when 
you drink your wine, do not appear to taste 
it : it should be as familiar to your hps as 
water, and no one tastes that. Neither is 
to be neglected, for neither can alone give 
perfect knowledge. The first source of 
instruction is wholly dependant upon our- 
selves ; the second is more so than we are 
in general willing to confess. As one can- 
not do all things, neither can he see all 
things ; for although ubiquity promises to 
be attainable somewhere in the course of 
the next century, it will not be so in this ; 
we must therefore permit others to see 
many things for us. Sit erect in your 
seat, Oceanus, and do not stoop forward, 
nor lay your whole body upon the table. 
One should be neither a lounger, nor a sol- 
dier upon guard, over his dinner ; there is 
a medium between the dressing-gown and 
buckram, which, combining ease and grace 
with self-respect, is beauty in posture. 
Now, of all who have written about living 
manners. and character, for with the past 
you and I have nothing to do, the novelists 
are the most true, and therefore the most 
instructive ; and of the novelists, I do think 
Mr. Bulwer to be, for our purpose, the best. 
Do not run your fingers through your hair, 
for if it is in order, as it ought to be, such 
an operation will displace it ; and if it is 
filled with oil, as it ought to be, your hand 
is made unfit for the courtesies of the 
table. In his writings we find most per- 
fectly portrayed, not the finished gentle- 
man alone, but the finished villain also ; 
the one within the other. They present 
many a model which we may well imitate. 
Give your days and nights to them, Ocea- 
nus, for they will richly reward an aspi- 
ring student. At table, never put your 
bare hand to your face, or touch any part 
of it with your fingers ; if you have occa- 
sion, use a napkin. There are other wri- 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



123 



ters whom you may consult ; I know not 
whether to call theiii of a higher or a low- 
er grade, for they have an equal quantity 
of truth scattered sparsely through a mass 
of fiction ; yet fiction, if it be possible, is 
as instructive as past realities. Vidocq, 
Ainsworth, and the biographers of noted 
sharpers generally, are very instructive ; 
and no young man who has not made him- 
self familiar with these, " the text-books" 
of our profession, should attempt to prac- 
tise in its higher departments. If you have 
dined, or supped, or taken your breakfast, 
whichever you please to call it, it being 
about two in the morning, you had better 
refill your glass and wash your fingers ; I 
have no water ; it would not pay the risk 
rim in the smuggling. And now I will do 
in pantomime a character or two taken 
from my favourite author.' 

" The two greatest mimics of the servile 
herd of voluntary bondsmen to the public 
breath, Roscius and Garrick, whose names 
time yet syllables, while nobler spirits 
mourn the loss of that high heritage, might 
have caught a grace to refine abasement 
from the cicerone of the blanket. He 
walked, sat, and looked the hero of the 
master-piece of the best English novelist 
of our day. Sloth entwined with energy ; 
without morals, as without belief; regard- 
less of all law, htiman and divine, except 
those conventional rules which are born of 
luxury, and change with each passing gen- 
eration ; polished in body and in mind, as 
if the sister arts. Education and Breeding, 
had laboured in rivalry, and met in the 
self-same object ; passion, like a well- 
trained horse, obedient to the bit ; and self- 
ishness glossed over with a philosophy 
which gives to the meanest of our attri- 
butes the show of gold — such is Pelham. 
To whose pages will the future historian 
of the English refer for the private and do- 
mestic habits, in this our age, of that class 
in society which moulds the form of every 
people, and gives to them their greatness 
and their humility ^ I will answer this 
•question with another ; and ask, in what 
estimation would the learned now hold the 
writings of Bulwer had he flourished at 
Athens during the administration of Peri- 
cles, or at Rome under Augustus 1 

" But it was as Clifford, Harry Finish, 
Augustus Tomlinson, MacGrawler, Old 
Bags, Long Ned, and Gentleman George, 
that the cicerone revelled in the fulness 
of joy, and exhibited all his talent ; while 
Oceanus, as audience, applauded without 
stmt, and wondered at the completeness 
of his friend's transformations. Here was 
neither dress, nor perspective, nor voice to 
cheat the senses ; but, when the soul 
changed, the body, with all its movements, 
which aro its life, changed also, and the 
actor passed from being to being, as one 
would put off and on a garment. If it is 



only after long continued and severe toil 
that one can master the ' cups and balls,' 
how great must be the labour which sub- 
dues the subtle spirit, making it a slave 
even unto itself ! Thus did the cicerone 
receive into himself, and was possessed by 
turns of each character as it lives, and will 
live forever, in that strange book where 
the high in place are degraded, and the 
mean raised to an unenviable eminence ; 
where civilization is stripped naked to the 
skin, and stands uncovered, exposed, in 
hideous deformity — drawn with a truth of 
colouring which the pencil of neither poet 
nor painter of ancient or modern breath 
has excelled. I heard a divine read that 
book, and, as he closed its last page, 'he 
cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, 
Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is 
become the habitation of devils, and the 
hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of 
every unclean and hateful bird. For all 
nations have drunk of the wine of the 
wrath of her fornication, and the kings of 
the earth have committed fornication with 
her, and the merchants of the earth are ' 
waxed rich through the abundance of her 
delicacies. Come out of her, my people, 
that ye be not partakers of her sins, and 
that ye receive not of her plagues. For 
her sins have reached unto heaven, and 
God hath remembered her iniquities.' 

SECTION XVII. 

" Oceanus did not neglect the instruc- 
tions of such a master. At night they 
were often in the vaults together ; and 
during the day, acting upon one of the 
cicerone's leading maxims, which was, 
that he knows most who probes deepest, 
he learned of the young physician all that 
the young physician knew. His love for 
the physician sprang from sympathy ; for, 
although he and his friend entered that 
house at different seasons, and under differ- 
ent circumstances, yet the probability of 
their exit thence seemed with both to be 
equally indeterminate. The physician had 
been incarcerated for the sum of ten dol- 
lars, and as his weekly board was weekly 
added to the original debt, the prospect of 
an early liberation could not be said to be 
very flattering. He taught Oceanus the 
whole art of phlebotomy, which, saving 
the presence of our host, I esteem to be 
the most certain part of physic ; and, as he 
was of a good temper and had a memory, 
Oceanus assigned him a character in sev- 
eral little dramas which the pantomime of 
the cicerone induced our hero to compose 
from fading recollections of the histories 
of his late companions, Tom Jones and 
Roderic Random. And to these books a 
third was subsequently added, which you 
will be surprised to find linked to such 
company for such a purpose ; the whole 
forming a well from which the youth drew t 



124 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



an inexhaustible supply of plot and char- 
acter. It happened in this way. 

" Six months of imprisonment had rolled 
by, and Oceanus had forgotten the days of 
the week. With him, time was divided 
into two parts, which alternated with each 
other, and had their beginning and ending 
with the rising and setting of the sun. 
The Sabbath was no longer holy, for he 
had lost its position ; and he deemed it no 
sin to play when the chances that the hour 
was unsanctified were as six to one in his 
favour. Then it was that one of that sect 
of the religion of Christ which is most uni- 
versal, most unchangeable, and therefore 
most truly Catholic, which, after the man- 
ner of its divine Master, enforces its pre- 
cepts by its practice, passed within the 
prison walls upon an errand of mercy. 
The good priest turned not aside from the 
poor of purse, and he loved the poor of 
spirit ; for where there is humility there 
is virtue. As he walked from cell to cell, 
bestowing consolation, inspiring hope, and 
promising pardon, his slow step, mild vis- 
age, and bowed form, habited after his or- 
der, attracted Oceanus's attention. The 
boy was ignorant of the difference between 
Protestant and Romanist ; but goodness 
has its own beauty, easily to be discerned 
by young eyes ; so he drew nigh unto the 
holy father, and, kneeling upon the pave- 
ment, as he had seen many an old lady in 
Paris do, asked a blessing. The holy fa- 
ther blessed Oceanus, and grieved much 
to find one so young in such a place. 

" ' My son,' said the holy father, ' to one 
of your age the world is wont to show a 
face of marvellous brightness. You are 
in the morning of life, and the green field, 
with its soft sunshine and laughing flow- 
ers, should better please your light step 
than this damp stone ; how comes it, then, 
that you are here, amid the miserable, 
Avho know what ear'h is — a place of terri- 
ble trial and never-ending sorrow !' 

" Oceanus hung his head. What to him 
was the green field 1 He was born upon 
the ocean and reared upon a sandy coast, 
dreary in everything but the habitations of 
men. He never knew the pure delight 
drank in by innocent childhood chasing 
the butterfly over a Northern meadow, 
with young, buoyant, hoiden spring urging 
on the race, and rejoicing in the pleasure 
she gave — those hours of unbought lux- 
ury, without a past and without afuture, 
which neither the wealth, nor the power, 
nor the knowledge of manhood learns us 
to forget, and which, alone of all the 
epochs of busy life, expiring age closes its 
eyes upon with regret. 

" ' Did no mother mould your first half- 
formed words into prayer?' 

" Oceanus's memory knew no mother 
other than the inamorata, who loved too 
well. 



" ' Did no father watch over your grow 
ing days, and fill your eager spirit with 
stories of the virtuous V 

" Oceanus's father died ere he was born. 

" ' Alas ! poor youth ; you bear the pen- 
alty, while to others belongs the crime. 
Ignorant — ' 

" Oceanus thought otherwise. 

" ' Without friends—' 

" Oceanus trusted in the cicerone. 

" ' Without morals — ' 

" Oceanus thought his own better than 
those of most he had met with. 

" ' Without religion — ' 

" ' I have a religion,' cried Oceanus, rais- 
ing his head and standing erect before the 
holy father, while his eyes gleamed with 
triumph ; ' I have a religion, and it is that 
of the Old and New Testament ;' and, draw- 
ing the books from his pocket, he put them 
into his accuser's hands. 

" The holy father opened the larger of 
the volumes, and, finding nothing there 
which appeared to be even a free transla- 
tion from the Vulgate, was at a loss what 
to make of it. To him it read much like 
some one of those books which the (Ecu- 
menical Council of Trent condemned as 
apocryphal ; and he doubted whether it 
might not be a heretical version of one of 
those equally heretical originals. 

" ' My son,' said the holy father, ' who 
told you that this was the Old Testament*" 

" ' One who was more than a mother to 
me,' said Oceanus, dropping a tear to the 
manes of the inamorata. ' She gave me 
both books upon her death-bed ; and, as^ 
one of them is certainly the New Testa- 
ment, the other, being its companion, must 
be the Old.' 

" This was an argument which the holy 
father found it difficult to combat ; asser- 
tion may be met with assertion, but, like 
two bull-dogs, each will hold to its grip. 
The holy father, like most of his order,, 
knew the world better than many wha 
seemingly mix more in its bustle, so he did 
that which wisdom and experience had 
taught him was the only eff"ectual mean for 
rooting out a fixed heresy. He sat down 
upon the pavement, and, placing Oceanus 
between his knees, began at the beginning. 
He first opened the New Testament, re- 
lated the whole story of Christ, without 
ornament, in all its native simplicity and 
beauty, and showed how his coming, cliar- 
acter, and mission had been prefigured by 
the prophets. He then took up the Old 
Testament, which he carried fastened to a 
leathern strap that was bound about his 
waist, and, quoting copiously from its 
pages, showed the wide distinction be- 
tween truth and fiction ; and proved that 
Bunyan's allegory was anything other than 
those inspired writings which are con- 
tinually alluded to by the biographers and 
apostles of the Saviour. 



NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 



" Oceanus doubted, and then believed. 
It is a hard thing to give up one's religion, 
or to release the mind's hold upon the mi- 
nutest parcel of its faith. So Oceanus 
found it ; and he took the ' Trials of Chris- 
tian' in his hands, and wept over them, and 
bid them an eternal farewell. Of all the 
sufferings of his short pilgrimage, this cer- 
tainty of knowledge, this opening of his 
eyes to the falsehood of what he had be- 
heved to be divine, was the severest. He 
felt like one bereaved of a first love, and 
the consolations of the holy father were 
Tain to quiet the heavings of his breast. 
Does knowledge give virtue ? These things 
must be left to time. And thus did the 
*■ Pilgrim's Progress' fall from its position, 
to hold rank and use with the other stories 
of fiction with which Oceanus delighted his 
associates in bonds. 

SECTION XVIII. 

" Pass the wine ; the story of Oceanus 
draws to its close. 

" Our youth had lost his old religion, and 
was not yet quite settled in the new, when, 
one day, as he talked with the cicerone 
upon matters of high import, and drew fine- 
spun distinctions between the true and false 
characters of men, a gentleman of some 
forty-five years, with a face which thought 
had made severe, and an eye that rogues 
love not, entered the prison court. His 
errand was a professional one. A cunning 
Jew, who, in these piping times of irre- 
sponsibility, held much, owed much, and 
paid nothing, left Mobile with a large por- 
tion of the profits of the bank of that city 
in his pocket. He came to New Orleans 
to take advantage of the peculiarity of our 
laws, and do what the respectable-look- 
ing old gentleman did, and what thousands 
of others have done — sue his creditors ! 
There are in most matters many ways of 
doing the same thing ; and here, one may 
sue his creditors either upon a voluntary 
or a forced surrender, or after an arrest 
upon mesne process : the Jew, out of the 
subtilty of his wisdom, selected the last of 
the three modes, and thus gained his food 
at the expense of others. The gentleman 
of some forty-five years was the attorney 
of the losing corporation, and had entered 
the prison for the purpose of having an in- 
terview with its absconding debtor. 

" Age soon forgets youth ; for, with years, 
the younger gains upon the elder born ; but 
youth never forgets age ; for, in the eyes of 
childhood, age is always the same. The 
cold attorney did not recognise injiiostjuak 
id boy who stood before him, Jterdjog Avilh 
the outcasts of civilization, tlip Wu&irr 
ew he had long mourned as lost t© all that 
is good in life, if not to life itself; but the 



126 

nephew^ recognised the uncle, and pride, 
humbled by suffering, no longer held him 
back. 'With a cry of joy which made the 
lazy keepers start and look about them, 
he bounded across the court, leaped upon 
the attorney's neck, kissed him over and 
over, asked forgiveness for the past, prom- 
ised reformation in the future, and laughed 
and wept by turns, until the man of severe 
habits, like the father in the simple parable 
told by Christ, received the repentant prod- 
igal to his bosom. 

" Oceanus parted from the cicerone with 
some feelings of regret. Deserted by all 
the world, he had been his friend in bonds ; 
and if the instruction he gave was not fit- 
ted to lead our youth to honour, he had 
turned to merriment days which might 
otherwise have crushed a spirit capable of 
good things. It is much, when fallen, to 
retain even the power of recuperation. 
The cicerone, too, exhibited an emotion 
to which he had been long unused. His 
heart was hard, and written all over with 
crime ; yet it was capable of friendship — 
what heart is not? — and he had lost a 
scholar apt to learn. 

" He bid farewell to the young physi- 
cian, thanked him for the knowledge he 
had imparted to him, and marvelled at the 
justice of the law which adds to the evils 
of poverty the punishment of incarcera- 
tion. All the inmates of the yard crowded 
about him, and congratulated him upon his 
release ; for he was loved by all, and he re- 
turned it. It was a pleasing sight to see 
those debased men raised, for a time, high 
above their deep and damning degradation 
by the soft influence of affection. These 
things teach us that there is to be found, 
even in the most vile, the means of re- 
demption ; that one love possesses us all, 
binding together witth one cord all of hu- 
manity, the ends whereof are in the hands 
of the Creator. 

" As the uncle and the nephew passed 
without the prison, Trouve, who had nev- 
er forgotten his master, but watched daily, 
during his long imprisonment, before the 
gates, obeying no one, and living in hope, 
met them at the portal, and the cup of 
Oceanus's happiness ran over. 

" Our hero returned to Mobile wiser, 
perhaps we may say better, for the perils 
he had passed. He no longer shunned his 
uncle's company, nor turned a deaf ear to 
healthy instruction ; and, excepting the 
honours which he continued to pay to the 
graves of the inamorata and the old Tar 
of the Fife, there was nothing in his acts 
which recalled the memory of other days, 
is now here, claiming the fortune to 



I ^Vhich \\B has so lately fallen heir ; let us 
drink a pumper to his early escape from 
I the delajs and vexations of the law." 



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